


The Penguin King

by Penguina



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Amazons - Freeform, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Oswald Cobblepot, Betrayal, Centaurs, Demisexual Oswald Cobblepot, Elves, Falling In Love, Goblins, Happy Ending, Humans, Jealous Edward Nygma, Love, M/M, Magic, Magical Creatures, Minor Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon, Oswald Cobblepot is king, POV Edward Nygma, Possessive Oswald Cobblepot, Royalty, everyone from Gotham is different magical beings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penguina/pseuds/Penguina
Summary: Edward Nygma unlocks a portal to a whole new magical world. Naturally he’s eager to explore it! However, what at first appears to be a wondrous woodland heaven turns out to be a place darker than what he had imagined. Ruled by the one they call the Penguin King, the Enchanted Forests of Gotham may be in need of a hero and Ed just might be the one.





	1. Book of Riddles

The library was by far Edward Nygma’s favorite place in the whole world. Ever since he was a kid the library has always been the one place where he could hide from the outside world and feel safe. In the pages of books he found comfort; in fictional characters he found friends, in facts he found security; in riddles he found joy. Now, a grown man in his late 20’s, Edward Nygma still sought the refuge of the library.

 

“Good day, Miss Isabella,” he greeted the old librarian. She was reading behind her desk, as usual, a pleasant friendly expression settling on her face when she noticed him.

 

“Oh, good day, Mr Nygma,” she greeted him in return. “How are you today?” 

 

“I’m fine,” he replied, eager to change the subject. “I have a day off so I thought what better way to spend it than at the library. Do you need help with the shelves today?”

 

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ve sorted it all out earlier.” 

 

“Neat.” Ed smiled widely. “How do you manage? Sometimes it feels like you live here. It’s remarkable.” 

 

Miss Isabella chuckled amused and accepted the compliment. 

 

What a charming old lady Miss Isabella was! Intelligent and kind with a heart of gold. She was the only person who was ever nice to Ed, who accepted him as he was without judging him for his ‘weirdness’ like others did. Ed could also bet that Miss Isabella used to be quite the beauty back in her day. He wondered how come she was an old maid. Perhaps she cared more about her books than people, in which case Ed could relate. She was a wise woman. Ed would probably die an old bachelor himself, like her. Even though at times that thought bothered him (he did crave human contact more than he’d like to admit) he had learned to accept it with time. 

 

He was about to dig into his usual reads when Miss Isabella pulled him out of his thoughts. 

 

“Before you go, Mr. Nygma, I have something for you.” Her smile was a bit mysterious as she gestured for him to follow her among the bookshelves, leading the way towards an old and unused section of the library. “This way,” she said and pointed at a stairway. 

 

“Wow! I didn’t know the library had a basement,” he exclaimed, awestruck. “What is this place?”

 

“It is an old building. We keep certain lesser used books here,” Miss Isabella said as they descended the stairs. “I recently found this old book and I instantly thought of you. So I put it safely away to show you.”

 

Edward felt a jolt of excitement in his chest. “Why, thank you, Miss Isabella! That was so thoughtful of you.” He smiled widely.

 

Miss Isabella chuckled and waved it off as if her sweet gesture didn’t mean the world to a young man like Edward, usually ignored by everyone.

 

“And here it is,” the old woman said, showing him the coolest looking book ever!

It was like something out of a fairytale! Its brown leather and green title giving the impression of a forest. One could almost feel and smell the freshness of the trees. 

Edward gasped. “Riddles!” He clapped his hands, joyfully when he read the title. “It’s an old book of riddles!”

Miss Isabella beamed at him, visibly happy that he liked her gift. “I know you love them so I had to share it to you.”

“It must be full of riddles I’ve never heard! Perhaps even old riddles lost in time!” Edward took the book in his hands and carefully examined it. There was a special lock on it, like something one would use on a personal diary rather than a riddle book. It only made it appear more mysterious, as if even the book itself were a riddle. “Who wrote this?” Ed asked, realizing that there was no trace of an author, editor, illustrator, or publishing house. Almost as if the book had just wrote itself.

Miss Isabella shrugged. She had no idea either.

“And I can take a look at it? It’s not a problem?” Ed asked to make sure, handing the book back to her. He didn’t want to get Miss Isabella into trouble. 

“Of course you can. That’s why I kept it for you," she reassured him, putting the book back into his hands. 

 

Just feeling it between his fingers was already the greatest experience Edward ever had. The exquisite craftsmanship of this remarkable book was so promising, making Ed imagine what glorious riddles were stored inside this beauty. 

“This is the best day of my life!” Edward exclaimed. “Thank you, Miss Isabella! Thank you again! Now. Where’s the key?”

Miss Isabella's kind face saddened at that.

“What’s the matter?” Ed asked, although he already knew the answer.

“There was no key, Mr. Nygma,” the old lady said regretfully. “I assumed you, as a riddle master of sorts, would be able to figure out how to unlock it.”

Edward blushed and chuckled. “Riddle master…” he waved it off bashfully but it was clear as day he liked being considered the master of riddles. He cleared his throat and took a closer look at the lock.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Miss Isabella said.

The lock was an intricate object. Encrusted with green and purple stones, the way they intertwined was fascinating. Edward brushed the tips of his fingers over the unusual lock.

“It’s a puzzle!” he exclaimed, excited about his realization. “Miss Isabella, it’s a puzzle! M-miss Isabella?”

He looked around. She wasn’t anywhere near him. He frowned but then shrugged. 

 

“She must’ve gone back upstairs. It’s her working hours after all,” Ed said to himself and returned to the matter at hand. The lock!

~*~  

Edward was not sure how long he spent down in the library basement, hunched over the curious lock of a curious book, but eventually he figured it out. Nothing could compare to the glorious feeling of unlocking the riddle book by moving the stones in a specific pattern. Edward would gladly have all his books work like that! It felt so… wondrous!

With great humility Edward opened the book to discover it was just as enchanting on the inside as it was on the outside. The first page was engraved with a message.

_ Wielder of Riddles, Master of Puzzles, thine shall be the Mark of Philomathy. _

Edward let out a squeak of excitement. This was so cool! He could hardly breathe from his exaltation. He impatiently turned the page, eager to devour the whole book, only to be disappointed. The next page was empty. He turned that one too but the next page was empty as well. And the one after that, and the one after that… They were all empty! The entire book had no written text in it other than the inscription at the beginning.

“Damn it! I got an ancient blank diary!” Edward whined. Just his luck! The coolest book he had ever seen turned out to be completely dull and unstimulating. Well, it was his own fault. He had judged the book by its cover.

He was about to put the whole thing down and return to Miss Isabella to share his misery with her when he noticed something. On the cover, right where the back of the lock had been positioned, there was a tiny piece of what appeared to be gold. Edward touched it and it came off easily in his palm, as if it just clicked out of the book. Edward examined it for a moment. It didn’t seem like much, other than being golden (again, it could easily be fake, who knew anymore?).  

“ _ Wielder of Riddles, Master of Puzzles, thine shall be the Mark of Philomathy _ ,” Edward repeated. “What if… it’s a riddle?” 

That was insane. It was more than insane but Edward had  _ one  _ sentence in this great big riddle book and if there was a chance that this sentence turned out to be the only riddle here, he was not going to waste it. 

“Okay, this  _ has  _ to be a riddle,” he muttered to himself. “So, let’s think. Philomathy is the love of learning. Wielder of Riddles, Master of Puzzles, that should probably be me, the reader…  _ Thine shall be the mark _ … No way!” he laughed hysterically. “This is too easy! The answer is a question mark. The mark of those who love learning. All learning starts with questions, therefore, the mark of the thirsty for knowledge is a question mark. I got it!” 

Solving the riddle was rather anticlimactic. Ed was grinning like an idiot, panting a little from excitement but nothing happened after he shouted his reply to the empty basement. There was no one to witness how Edward Nygma answered an ancient riddle-message. 

 

He sighed, shoulders slumping a little. 

“I guess that’s all there is to this. Nothing special after all.” His eyes fell on the piece of metal in his hand. “Why are you here then?” he asked as if it could answer him.

He bit his lower lip. There had to be  _ more  _ here. This book had the most intricate lock Ed had ever seen! The whole thing was a freaking puzzle, for God's sake! There had to be more to it than met the eye!

“Thine shall be the Mark of Philomathy.” Ed narrowed his eyes at the sparkling gold. “Thine shall be…” He leafed through the book and with the edge of the golden rock that he held between his long, slender fingers he traced a question mark on one of the blank pages. Then he waited. He wasn’t sure what exactly would happen but  _ something  _ had to. 

After an initial moment of tense silence in which Ed had no idea what he was even expecting, the outline of the imprint of the question mark started glowing. Edward’s eyes widened as the entire book began to shine so brightly he had to eventually shut them to not be blinded by it. There was pressure in his ears that almost brought tears in his eyes.

Ed gasped. What was happening!? Was he dying!? Was this a cursed book!? This was so neat! Was it even possible for it to be a cursed book!?

 

The intensity of the book grew stronger and stronger until suddenly it all just… stopped. And then there was silence. 

Nothing.

Ed stood there for a while, hunched in on himself, waiting for a repetition of whatever just happened. When nothing followed, he cracked open one eye. Then the other. And then his mouth too because his jaw had dropped.

“How...?” was all he could whisper as he found himself in the middle of a forest.

~*~  

A forest. An actual forest. What was an actual forest doing in the library basement!? A tiny little voice in the back of his head told him he was likely no longer in the library. And yes, he had to admit that this would be the most logical explanation of this illogical situation.

 

Edward took a step forward. Yep, still in a forest. Could he be imagining this whole thing? Was it real? He glanced behind himself, wondering where the book went seeing that there was no sign of it. Perhaps the sole purpose of the book was to act as a portal to this place. And now that it’s work was done, it had disappeared. Dissolved into thin air.

 

The forest felt pretty real. He walked further, still surrounded by great massive trees. They were so thick and close to one another that sunlight could hardly get through their branches and leaves. Ed wasn’t even sure if it was daytime in this place, whatever this place was. It was definitely worth exploring though! And Ed was very willing to do just that. Of course, he would explore it! This was the single most unbelievable, magical, wondrous thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life! This was a whole new fantasy world! It was like... like Narnia! Ed just found Narnia! Was this Narnia?  

“Pfft, no, of course not," he chuckled and rolled his eyes at his own silliness. “This isn’t Narnia.”

Yet, it was still a secret magical world and that was amazing all on its own. Ed thought to himself that he could stay here for the rest of his life. He had no real attachments to his ordinary life. The only person who might notice his absence and miss him would be Miss Isabella. Therefore, it was no surprise that he marched enthusiastically into this new adventure!  

 

As he walked he noticed some of the trees were marked with peculiar symbols he could not understand. Perhaps a code? Or an ancient language? Or they could just be a bunch of meaningless scribbles. Edward would gladly find out if he could. 

 

He pressed his hand to one of the trees and felt its bark, carefully tracing the lines of the strange markings, when he suddenly noticed a golden ring on his finger. A golden ring with a question mark on it. How did it get there? It took him a moment to realize that the golden ring with the question mark looked exactly like the piece of gold Ed had extracted from the Book of Riddles.

“Neat.” He grinned, taking a closer look at the ring. It was definitely a piece of jewelry he’d love wearing. 

This adventure was getting better and better! Now all he had to do was find someone to explain to him where he was and what was happening. Easy peasy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Boossuet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boossuet/pseuds/Boossuet) for being a wonderful beta :)


	2. Chapter II: The Elf, The Amazon and the Troll

It was nearly dusk. The beautiful blonde in the ethereal dress took a step closer to the large troll in front of her. Her tread on the marble floor was light as a feather. Another woman with tanned skin and expressive eyebrows, all dressed in leather, was attending to her weapons not far from the pair.

They were safe here, in the Great Elven Hall, surrounded by tall trees and white columns, connected with each other in triangular arcs. There were no walls, doors or windows, and no roof either. The entire Great Hall consisted of a large round marble plate that worked as a floor, carved with ancient elven writings. Hardly any furniture could be found other than four throne-like chairs at each corner of the hall. 

“I don’t know, Lady Barbara... If he finds out I’m telling you all this, he’s gonna kill me…” the troll frowned, fidgeting restlessly with his fingers.

“You can’t seriously be afraid of him,” the blonde woman laughed. She suddenly grabbed the troll by his collar, pulling him up to her eye level. “We’ve had a _goblin_ for a king long enough. It’s time for a change around here. It’s up to you, Gabe. Do you want to remain _alive_ after Penguin is dethroned or not?”

The one she had called Gabe swallowed nervously and nodded. “Alright… I’ll help ya.”

Lady Barbara smiled and let him go. “Good," she cooed, pleased. “Now, tell me what he’s up to now.”

Gabe furrowed his brows in concentration. “He don’t really tell me much…”

A noise came from somewhere behind them and the blonde beauty held up her hand, instantly alerted. She exchanged a look with the woman behind her.

“Tabitha? Go check who that is," she instructed.

Tabitha gave a silent nod and followed the noise.

The blonde turned back to Gabe. “You were saying?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning. He’s very secretive.”

“I know that, you idiot!” she hissed at him angrily. “The whole point is that you’re our eyes and ears there. So tell me now, did you see or hear anything unusual? Anything new?”

Gabe’s frown deepened as he thought harder. “I-- There’s nothing I can remember…” he mumbled.

“Ugh.”

“But his leg is worse than usual so he can’t leave his castle these days,” Gabe added, eager to please.

Lady Barbara crunched up her nose. “I don’t take pleasure in his pain, Gabe. I’m after his power but I’m not driven by hatred. It’s purely business,"

“But now that he can’t go out, he sends me to do more errands for him.”

“Aw, I feel for you,” Barbara said, unimpressed.

“I thought one of the errands was really weird,” Gabe then said. “He gave me a letter and told me to throw it in a well.”

Lady Barbara stopped in her tracks. “A letter in a well? What well? What did the letter say?”

“I don’t know. He told me not to open it.”

“You should’ve read it!” she scolded. “Now who knows when our next chance will be.”

She seemed displeased with him and Gabe hated that. He instantly started apologizing. “I’m sorry, Lady Barbara, I didn’t mean to disappoint you…”

Lady Barbara sucked in a deep breath and looked at the troll again. The poor creature looked wrecked with regret. She placed a tender hand on his cheek.

“It’s alright, Gabe. I know you’re doing your best,” she said with a gentle smile, a reward for his effort. But there was warning in her voice when she continued, “This time. Be careful not to miss any future opportunities. Or I shall be very disappointed.”  

“I won’t, Lady Barbara! I promise I’m doing my best. But it’s so difficult sometimes...”

Barbara leaned up to press a kiss to Gabe’s cheek. “I know, I know,” she said. “You’re still making us all proud. Even Tabby here says--”

A loud feminine shriek came from where Tabitha had gone off to check the area.

“Oh, no! Miss Tabitha!” Gabe gasped, terrified.

Barbara merely smirked. “That’s not Tabitha. She doesn’t sound like that. That’s whoever Tabitha found lurking in the woods.”

~*~  

“Stupid forest," Edward groaned.

He’s been walking, stumbling, and hitting his head on branches in this forest for hours. It felt like years though. And there was still no sign of… of _anything_ happening at all. He thought this was supposed to be a magical forest. Instead it appeared to be just a regular boring forest and that was annoying. On top of that, Edward was getting hungry.

He was dragging his feet one after the other and leaning on each tree for support, exhausted and almost defeated, when a woman suddenly jumped right in front of him.

Ed let out a manly shriek of surprise and fell flat on his bottom.

The woman arched an eyebrow. Ed’s eyes traveled up and down her body to observe each and every knife and whip visible upon her person. He swallowed.

“I am a puzzle of wielders and riddle of masters,” he assured her in a shaky voice.

She grabbed him by the arm and lifted him up without so much as breaking a sweat.

“Oh, dear!” Edward sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

This was not a good forest.

~*~

Tabitha returned shortly after the shriek, dragging a tall person with her. The poor man was twisting and turning, desperate to set himself free from Tabby’s strong grasp and, as expected, failing miserably at that. Barbara knew well that no one could escape Tabitha. She was almost invincible.

“And what, might I ask, is this?” Barbara put her hands on her hips, observing the wretched man Tabitha had just dropped on the ground.

“See for yourself,” Tabitha said, lifting the person’s head so that the blonde could see him properly.

“I’m Edward Nygma! I-- I come in peace. I promise. I don’t even know where I am… I-- I opened a portal because I’m really smart and really amazing with riddles and now I-- I-- Are you alright?”

The blonde woman before him had become pale and wide-eyed. Was it something he said?

“You’re a human," she uttered in astonishment.

“He’s a human,” Tabitha confirmed as if it weren’t obvious.

“I am a human, yes,” Ed agreed, frowning. “Aren’t you human too? You do both look quite human-y to me…”

“Please. Don’t insult us!” Tabitha cut him off, lifting her hand up in a threat to slap him.

Ed flinched even though a hit did not follow.

“How can there be a human here? I thought the portal was sealed,” Barbara said.

Tabitha only shrugged. Gabe remained silent until Barbara gave him a sign that he was free to leave. Ed only managed to glance at the troll, not quite sure what he saw exactly. He was suddenly so confused! Nothing made sense and he needed nutrition.

“How did you get here?” Barbara demanded, bringing his attention back to her. “Tell me! At once!”

Ed swallowed and showed her his ring. Perhaps that would shed some light on the situation.

Apparently it did because the blonde woman exclaimed. “You’re the Wielder of Riddles!” She beamed at him. “It’s good to finally meet you. We’ve heard the legends about you.”

“I’m not-- I mean, I guess I am but I haven’t exactly done anything legendary yet?” Ed said, insecurely.

Barbara chuckled. “He’s hilarious too.”

Ed smiled but he was perplexed. He wasn’t sure what it was about him that the blonde woman found so amusing. Was she making fun of him? Sometimes it was difficult to tell.

“The Wielder of Riddles is not a person, but more like a title. They’re whoever manages to unlock the Book of Riddles and wield its power. Well done to you since you apparently did just that.”

“I unlocked the book’s power?” Ed asked, surprised, looking at his hands with incredulity, as if he were seeing them for the first time in his life.

“You don’t know what you did exactly, do you,” Barbara said, much less impressed by him now.

Ed had to admit that was the truth. “I first thought it was a riddle book and then a magic portal.”

Barbara grinned. “Oh, honey. It’s so much more than that. So much more! But don’t worry. With our help you will learn to control it. I suppose you have a lot of questions. But first, you need food and rest.” A smile played on Barbara’s lips. “I remember how fragile your kind is.”

Ed frowned. “My kind?”

Her smile morphed into a wide grin. “Humans,” she clarified.

Ed wanted to ask if there were other humans in this place but before he could open his mouth, Tabitha placed her hand on his shoulder, making him flinch again.

Barbara chuckled. “Don’t be afraid, Edward. We’re your friends. I’m Barbara and this is Tabitha. We can help you. But first, get some rest. Tabby will show you to your new home.”

“My new home?”

Barbara glanced at Tabitha and the two seemed to understand one another instantly without words. The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip a little.

“Come,” Tabitha instructed.

Barbara was right, Edward was indeed hungry and tired. Perhaps being shown his new home wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Boossuet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boossuet/pseuds/Boossuet) for being a wonderful beta :)


	3. Chapter III: Tales of Gotham

Tabitha personally led the way through a special forest path, taking Edward to a hidden elven city. It was so beautiful and magical, secluded among the trees! Just the way he’d always imagined an elven city should be. The exciting surroundings revived his enthusiasm and consequently his desire for a friendly conversation. Being the only person around, Tabitha became the victim of Edward’s excessive friendliness. 

 

“So, Barbara says you’re not humans. What are you?” he asked with a smile, hoping to break the ice. 

“I’m an Amazon,” Tabitha replied, not particularly keen on having a chat. Or being less hostile. 

No breaking the ice then. Check.

 

“What about Barbara?” Ed tried to keep the conversation going anyway. 

 

“An elf,” Tabitha said in the same impatient manner as before. 

 

“That’s really exciting,” Edward grinned. “Both your… species… are fascinating!” Tabitha gave him a dangerous look. Was it a misstep to compliment their species? He cleared his throat and went on, “Barbara says you can help me. What does she mean by that?” 

 

“Well, I ain’t Barbara, am I? You’re gonna have to ask her.” Tabitha sped up her pace. Perhaps she wanted to get him to their destination sooner? Did she want to get rid of him? Why?

“Well, she seems to confide in you so I thought--” 

Tabitha stopped abruptly, her face suddenly invading Edward’s privacy as she gritted her teeth at him. “That I’d what? Betray that confidence and tell you everything?”

Ed swallowed again, mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. “I realize my misjudgment now. I apologize.”

The amazon gave him a strange look. Did she expect him to fight her? To somehow be just as combative as her? No way. Edward was not a fighter. Especially when it came to losing battles. Edward could hardly even stand up for himself, let alone fight. Be it with words or with fists. Instead he offered the amazon a sheepish little smile, hoping that would put her at ease again. 

Tabitha took a step back and placed her hands on her hips. “You need to wash yourself, eat and sleep. We know how tender you humans can be.” She opened the door to one of the cozy elf homes. “This is yours for now. Take care of yourself and then we’ll talk.”

Ed nodded. Food, water, and a warm bed sounded pretty neat right now.

 

~*~  

 

“A human, Babs. Why are you even letting him in our city!? Let alone stay here!” 

 

Barbara reached out for the bowl of grapes on the side of her hot spring and popped one in her mouth. “Relax, Tabby. It’s no big deal,” she relaxed back in the water, enjoying the the lovely feeling on her skin. 

 

Tabitha crossed her arms over her chest, towering over Barbara from the ground. “You remember what the last human you let in did to us.” 

Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh and pursed her lips. “Must you  _ always  _ bring that up?” 

 

“He’ll turn against us, just like the other one,” Tabitha insisted passionately. “You can’t trust humans.” 

 

“Well, he’s not like the rest of them. He’s the Wielder of Riddles. He’s been mentioned in Gotham lore. So he happens to be human. He can still be the key to defeating Penguin.” 

 

Tabitha rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t even know how to use the power of the Book.” 

 

“He managed to open a portal to our world. That’s a good enough start for me. It’s only a matter of time and training before he could do more,” the elf reached her hand up, waiting for Tabitha to take it. After a small hesitation Tabitha did, squeezing Barbara’s fingers with surprising gentleness. “We can help him, Tabby,” Barbara said softly. “And then he’ll help us.” 

 

The Amazon sighed. “What if he refuses?” 

 

“He will not. I trust that he will not. Why would he? With the right performance from me, he’ll be on our side forever.” 

 

“But when Jim Gordon--” 

 

“Jim Gordon was an obstinate slut for justice,” Barbara cut her off angrily. “He wanted to do things his own way and one day he’ll get what he deserves!” 

 

“Alright, I understand. Never mention Gordon. Got it,” Tabitha smirked. 

 

“Edward is not Jim,” Barbara insisted again. “He’s the key to our secret weapon. And once we have it, Penguin will have to bow down to me.” 

 

Tabitha still seemed unconvinced. Barbara observed her face for a long moment and then spoke, softer, “You can still leave. This is not your fight.”  

 

Tabitha shook her head, rubbing Barbara’s shoulders with her hands to lessen the tension, gathered there by centuries worth of stress. “Don’t say that. Your fight is my fight too. It’s  _ our  _ fight and I’m not running from it,” she assured and pressed a gentle kiss to the elf’s temple. “I just hope it doesn’t end in blood.” 

 

~*~ 

 

“I have a lot of questions,” was the first thing Ed said once Barbara arrived to his small elven home. He assumed it was kind of an honor to be visited by her since she appeared to be some sort of royalty around here. Sadly, Ed’s knowledge of elf etiquette was still lacking so he supposed he’d make a lot of blunders until he learned the proper way to behave. Luckily Barbara seeed to like him so his little missteps should be forgiven. “So many questions!” 

 

Barbara chuckled. “I expect you do. Ask away. I’m here to shed some light and give more clarity.” 

 

Looking at her, with her hair beautifully done, her sparkling blue eyes, her impeccable attire, she really did look radiant enough to literally shed light. Edward instantly dove into what he was interested to know. He thought it logical to start with an easier one, “Where am I?” 

 

“Gotham. Our realm. Home of many races.  _ Races _ , mind you, not  _ species _ ,” she added with a  smirk. “It can be a sensitive word. We’re all the same species, you see, and therefore have equal rights as such.” 

 

Ed felt heat rising to his cheeks as he remembered his previous conversation with the scary amazon. “Now I understand why Tabitha glared at me earlier,” he said, embarrassed.  

 

Barbara was in a good humor. She found Ed’s awkwardness entertaining. She graced him with a kind smile. “That’s alright. You’re still new here. We must excuse certain… missteps. But just so you know, elves, trolls, amazons and fairies merely scratch the surface of the races you’ll encounter in Gotham. There’s so many here.” 

 

He gave a nod of understanding, then blurted out another  _ fascinating _ before shutting up again. 

 

“Next question,” Barbara smiled graciously. 

 

“Is Gotham located in the book? Am I currently inside the Book of Riddles?” 

 

Barbara giggled. The thought amused her. “That’s a valid concern, I suppose. But no, you are not in the Book. The book opened a portal. It does that in the hands of the right person.” 

 

“It did that in my hands… I opened a portal.” Edward took a moment to comprehend that achievement. “Why am I the right person? What makes me the right person?” 

 

Barbara shrugged. “I don’t know. The Book chooses. I cannot tell why it chose you in particular. But it did.” 

 

Ed processed that. A magical book chose him to be its master. That definitely tickled his fancy. He tried not to show it too much and continued, “And who are you in this land exactly? Are you Queen of the Elves?” 

 

“Queen? Me?” she laughed. “Honey, we haven’t had queens like that for a really long time,” the cheerfulness was gone from her face now, replaced with a look of concern. She sighed. “What we do have is the King. He’s above everything and everyone. We’ve been under his rule for the last 200 years, ever since he seized power, taking control over each race,” her eyes met with Edwards and he could feel their strange intensity. “I would’ve been Queen of the Elves. If it weren’t for the King.” 

 

Edward swallowed. “You say he’s been in power for the last 200 years. Is the King immortal?” he asked cautiously yet with curiosity. 

 

Barbara snorted. “Well, the King’s a goblin. So yes.” 

 

Ed’s eyes widened. “You have a  _ goblin  _ king!?” 

 

Barbara seemed amused again. “Even the human understands that having a goblin for a king is just wrong.” 

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I just... didn’t expect a goblin to be king of a magical land, that’s all.” 

 

“No one did,” Barbara’s smile turned slightly bitter. “He seized power when we least expected. He was a nobody before. He used to hold the umbrella for the Amazon Queen. Everybody used to call him Penguin, if they even bothered talking to him. He looks a bit like a bird, you see, and he walks funny. We all underestimated him. No one even remembered his actual goblin name. According to legend, whoever learns his name has power over him. But he isn’t a fool. He doesn’t share it with anyone and he’s eliminated all records of it.” 

 

“The legend must be true then. His name must hold a special magical qualities,” Edward mused. Barbara only nodded. “Is it really this easy to make a name disappear in Gotham?” Edward marveled.

“It is when you were an insignificant goblin like Penguin,” Barbara replied, not bothering to hide her disdain. 

 

For someone who claimed races in Gotham deserves equal treatment and equal rights she sure despised goblins. Edward kept his thoughts to himself and instead proceeded with the questions. “And he hasn’t told his real name to  _ anyone _ ?  _ Ever? _ ” 

 

“Not that I know of," Barbara sighed, shaking her head. "But this is a long story, Edward. Perhaps we should leave it for another time.” 

 

Edward was quite curious to hear more about this Goblin King who managed to keep his power for two whole centuries and conceal his true name. He truly sounded fascinating, even if Barbara seemed to hate him so much. Ed would’ve asked more questions about him but he noticed the elf’s reluctance to dwell on the subject. So he remained silent instead. 

 

“What you have to remember about the King,” Barbara warned, “is that he’s a small vicious thing. Kills for the tiniest offense. If you as much as look at him the wrong way, he’ll slit your throat and turn you to stone. So if you ever meet him, stay away from his knife. It’s soaked in ancient poison.” 

 

Ed swallowed. “So I guess that’s how he kept his power for two centuries. Fear and respect. Management 101.”  

 

Barbara sneered. “Goblins are  _ impure  _ creatures. Not high rank at all. No one respects him. But fear him? Definitely. He fooled even the most clever Gothamites. We didn’t see it coming. The little goblin sneaked his way up to power and outfoxed us all. Even the ancient Amazon Warrior Queen, the ruler of all the Amazon tribes, Fish Mooney, his own boss; he tricked her. Maroni, the ruler of the trolls; Penguin got under his skin. Nathaniel Barnes, ruler of the Centaurs; Penguin poisoned his mind to madness. My own parents… well, he corrupted them, made them his secret allies to work for him and against everyone else. So I killed them.” 

 

Edward shivered. Barbara noticed and it amused her immensely. “Are you too sensitive for such stories, human?” she teased. 

 

Edward shook his head. 

 

“Perhaps you have another question?” Barbara encouraged, reaching out for the bowl of grapes she had brought with her when she arrived to his small new home. She seemed really fond of those grapes. 

 

Edward sucked in a deep breath. He had been wondering about this next question for some time now, always too nervous to ask. “Am I the first human to set foot in Gotham?” 

 

Barbara arched an eyebrow. “Why do you ask that?” 

 

“Earlier you spoke as if you knew humans. Yet I don’t hear you mention any. Why?” 

 

For a moment Barbara was so quiet and lost in thought that Edward assumed she would not reply at all. But then she snapped out of her revery and looked back at him. “We had a human king once upon a time,” she said, causing Edward to let out a curious exclamation. “He was well-respected, even loved. He united all Gotham races and ruled wisely, giving independence to each ruler, recognizing their authority over their own kind. Those were good times. But the King was human. Which made him weak against forces beyond his control.” 

 

“Old age?” Edward guessed. He assumed that would be the tricky part when ruling a land of immortal beings. 

 

Barbara nodded. “He got old. It weakened him. He was dying and suddenly everyone wanted to take his place. So a terrible war started. The King died watching his empire shatter to pieces. The order he spent his entire life protecting was gone forever. It was a brutal war. Penguin set the rulers against one another until they eliminated each other while he himself seized the throne. He was the one who ended the war so he became our new King. He provided peace at a time when we were all too exhausted of fighting and murdering each other. And then from Gotham’s chaotic anarchy he created his own order. The order we still have to follow two centuries later.” 

 

Edward’s breathing was shallow. He had goosebumps all over. The story had affected him more than he could explain. 

 

“You want to get rid of the King,” he realized. “But he’s too powerful.” 

 

The corners of Barbara's lips arched up. “You’re more clever than I gave you credit.” 

 

“People often forget that about me,” Ed replied, matter-of-factly. “So you expect me to be some sort of help to you in overthrowing the King?” 

 

Barbara looked pleasantly surprised. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” 

 

“I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.” 

 

Barbara put away the grapes and leaned in to look the human closely in the eyes. “You have power, Edward. You don’t know it yet but you do. Once you unlock it, you could be a great asset in our battle against the King.” 

 

Edward swallowed. “I’m not much of a fighter,” he muttered. “I’m a better strategist.” 

 

“I don’t expect you to lead a physical battle. This is more than brute force. This is about minds!” she leaned even closer to him, her eyes intense on him. “Penguin is an evil creature, Edward,” she said earnestly. “All he cares about is power. It pains me to see my home, my beloved Gotham, in the hands of such a foul beast, such a freak!” 

 

“I-- I can understand your pain. I too have been oppressed by… foul beasts,” he mused quietly, looking down at his hands awkwardly. 

 

Barbara reached out for him, placing her hand on top of his in a reassuring gesture. “The past can be painful. But you’d do better to leave it behind. This is a new life for you. A new beginning. You’re the Wielder of Riddles. You’ve been chosen, therefore, you’re here for a reason. I can help you learn how to use your power. This can be your home, too.” 

 

Their eyes met for a moment. Edward could feel the heavy importance of this moment. He had a vital decision to make. Should he refuse Barbara and choose safety, or should he risk everything for an unknown power that could bring him glory but perhaps cost him his life? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Boossuet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boossuet/pseuds/Boossuet) for being a wonderful beta :)


	4. Chapter IV. The Edward in the Closet

The lessons began the next day. There was no need to waste time. Edward chose power, of course. He’d choose anything over returning to his ordinary life in the human world. Gotham was giving him a chance to shine and achieve greatness, to be appreciated for his brilliance, and that was something he secretly craved for quite some time. He was no fool. He took his chance. 

 

Barbara started personally training him, carefully introducing him to the world of long-lost magic as best as she could. One thing Ed found out about Gotham was that magic used to be everywhere centuries ago but then most of that ancient knowledge was lost in the Long War. Unfortunately very little of the spells, potions and charms were still used, and those that remained were too simple for the Wielder of the Book of Riddles. The Book of Riddles was one of the few enchanted artifacts that survived. Edward asked if there were others but Barbara didn’t know. It was rumored that King Penguin had some locked away in his castle but there was no proof of that. Once again Edward was in awe that the King managed to shroud all that vital information about himself and Gotham magic in such secrecy. It definitely took skill to achieve that level of security. 

 

Ed’s progress over the the week was not very impressive. In fact, if he had to be honest, to his great horror he was doing very poorly. His only and relatively easy task as the Wielder of Riddles, was to summon the Book. He had no such luck. Edward had always thought of himself as an intelligent and skillful person. His dedication to knowledge and thirst to learn more made him a fast learner. Yet, his magic lessons were a total failure. It was beginning to upset him immensely and that on its own worsened his performance even more. What sort of a Wielder of Riddles was unable to even summon his own Book? 

 

“The Book is both ancient and new. Powerful and weak,” Barbara said. “It responds to you, you should wield it to your command!” 

 

“I’m trying!” Ed gasped, concentrating as much as he could. The only result he achieved was a headache. Another headache. “And what’s that about ancient and new, powerful and weak? Is it a riddle?” 

 

“If only. It’d be easier for you then, wouldn’t it?” Barbara sighed. She was exhausted too but she womaned up and took it. “Not everything is a riddle, Edward. It’s quite literal. The book possesses ancient knowledge but just like the world, it constantly evolves. Therefore, it is forever unfinished, always writes itself, adding more information to its pages. That is why it’s both ancient and new.” 

 

“Neat!” Edward couldn’t help but be amazed. A book that kept writing itself. A never ending-riddle book. It sounded like a wonderful dream! 

 

“The book holds great power but it’s weak without its Wielder,” Barbara continued, “so in times of dangers it disappears into a safe space and only the Wielder can summon it back.” 

 

Edward deflated. “And I can’t summon it,” he muttered quietly, ashamed. “Some wielder I am.” 

 

“The Book needs to feel safe again in order to appear. You need to-- gain its trust.” 

 

Edward groaned. 

 

“It’s not an easy task. And you haven’t really encountered magic often in the past,” Barbara allowed. “It’s normal to find it a bit difficult.” 

 

“A bit?” Edward repeated, unable to hold his sarcasm. 

 

“Theoretically, you should be able to summon it. Eventually. So don’t give up.”  

 

“I don’t think we have that much time,” Edward said pointedly. 

 

“True. But if we keep going, we’ll get there faster,” Barbara grabbed his hands in hers. “You need to feel the bond between yourself and the Book. Only then it will listen to you and appear at your command.” 

 

Ed sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes and doing his best to ‘feel the bond’. Whatever that meant. It was too abstract and he wasn’t sure if he was ‘feeling it’ in the right direction. If only Barbara could guide him more precisely. But that was not how magic worked. He had to find it in himself. Unfortunately, time was slipping through their fingers. 

 

After another fruitless attempt, Ed slumped down on one of the cushions on the floor of his elven home. “I can’t believe I thought that was just a simple riddle book at first,” he said with a loud exhale. 

 

Barbara joined him on the cushioned floor and chuckled. “Well, now you know. They’re spells, masked as riddles.” 

 

Edward glanced at her. “So tell me already. Which spell do you want to use?” 

 

Barbara tensed almost instantly. “What?” she let out a nervous chuckle. “What makes you ask that?” 

 

“I’m a human and an intruder. Yet you seem so glad to have me here. I’m your only chance at getting and decoding the Book, therefore, you must be after a specific spell. Which one?” 

 

Barbara hesitated for a moment. 

 

“Come on. I deserve to know if I’m going to be a part of this,” Edward said. “Besides, it might help me to summon the Book if I knew more details.” 

 

Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not too fond of telling you this, it’s too early and I’d rather not burden you with information someone could use against you. But since you insist,” her eyes met his. “The spell I’m after will let us know where and how to free the Jester.” 

 

Edward furrowed his brows. “The Jester? Who’s that?” 

 

“The Jester, or Jerome as his followers used to call him, is a maniac, a little imp, a mischievous spirit.” 

 

“Well, that sounds promising,” Ed muttered sarcastically. 

 

Barbara gave him a look. “He’s not  _ that  _ bad. Legends tell stories of him and all the chaos he unleashed on Gotham when he was free. It took all of the races working together to lock him away.” 

 

“So he’s powerful.” 

 

“He’s more than that. He has a certain… charisma? I don’t know what to call it, but he always gets what he wants.” 

 

“Apart from when he was locked away in a magical prison,” Ed supplied. 

 

“He’s an entity of chaos. But chaos can be helpful.” Barbara grinned. 

 

“Helpful and useful if you want to dethrone a penguin!” Edward brightened up, realizing what her actual plan was. “You want to use Jester against Penguin?” 

 

Barbara melted into a sweet smile. “You understand me so well.” 

 

“Is that really a wise idea though? If Jerome the Jester is really so out of control…” 

 

“You humans always so prudent!” Barbara rolled her eyes. “We just need him to weaken Penguin. Then with the Book on our side we can deal with the rest.” 

 

Edward nodded. “There’s no reason why we won’t be able to contain Jester again if necessary.” 

 

Barbara leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ed’s cheek. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here. You see things the way I do.” 

 

Edward smiled back at her. “Umm, just one thing.” 

 

“Sure.” 

 

“Wielder of Riddles is kind of… pretentious and silly. I don’t like it. I prefer a different name.” 

 

“Okay…? That’s hardly a priority right now but do go on.” 

 

Edward sucked in a deep breath, hardly able to contain his sudden excitement to speak of this out loud. “I was thinking--” 

 

Barbara arched an eyebrow. “You actually spent time thinking about that?” 

 

“I could be called-- the Riddle Master!” he announced. Barbara blinked. Edward slowly deflated. “No good? P-perhaps something shorter? Something less… I just want riddles in my name. I want to sound like a riddle myself, like--” he gasped. “The Riddler. I want to be called Riddler!” 

 

“Riddler,” Barbara shrugged. “Alright. It’s your choice.” 

 

Ed beamed. “You mean that? I can be known as Riddler?” 

 

“Sure. You wanna do this in style, I get that.” Barbara nodded. 

 

Edward pulled her into a tight hug than clapped his hands excitedly. “Neat! Now I’ll definitely be able to summon the Book!” 

 

“Let’s hope so. Penguin may have unlimited life but your days are numbered.” 

 

Ed frowned. “I’m still young.” 

 

“Darling, I don’t want to burst your bubble but in our eyes your lifespan is similar to that of a fly.” 

 

Ed inhaled deeply. Barbara had a point. 

 

“Hey, don’t get depressed now,” She tapped him gently on the shoulder. “Like you said, you’re still young.” 

 

“Right. Still young,” Ed repeated mechanically. 

 

“Come. Let’s try summoning that Book again.” 

 

~*~  

 

Tabitha showed up at Edward’s door, interrupting their lesson. She seemed like her usual self but there was something off about her behavior that Edward instinctively felt even though he could not logically explain it.  

 

“We have a guest,” Tabitha said, giving Barbara a look. 

 

“We’re busy.” Barbara said, not particularly interested. If anything she was annoyed her lesson with Nygma was interrupted. They were finally on the verge of making some progress. 

 

Tabitha cleared her throat. “It’s Victor Zsasz,” she said. 

 

The words had an almost magical effect on Barbara. Ed could see her face pale at the mention of that name. Whoever that person was, Edward had a feeling the name  _ Victor Zsasz  _ was going to haunt him. 

 

“Edward, you need to hide,” Barbara said firmly. 

 

“But--” 

 

“Now.” She insisted and without any further ado Tabitha grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away. She stuffed him into a closet of all places, then closed the door without a word. 

 

There wasn’t much space in the closet. It was enough to hold Edward but he felt crowded with all the silks from the clothes that hung in there. Still he remained silent. If Barbara wanted him to hide there must’ve been a good reason for it. His own breathing sounded too loud to him. He could hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears, the blood pumping desperately through his veins. He had no idea why he was so nervous, he didn’t even know who Victor Zsasz was. But the name managed to scare both Barbara  _ and Tabitha  _ so whoever Victor Zsasz was he had to be terrifying. 

 

Curious for more information, Edward carefully pressed his face to the inside of the closet door. He wanted to know what they were up against. Through the tiny keyhole of the closet he could see almost everything that transpired in the room without being seen himself. So, faithful to his curiosity, he silently observed. 

 

Barbara sucked in a deep breath and gave Tabitha a nod of confirmation, a sign that she was ready to face Zsasz. With all the commotion around the name, Edward expected some kind of a giant to enter the small elven home. He expected a mountain of a man, or a creature so terrifying that even Tabby’s whips would shudder in horror. Instead, he saw a man, tall-ish but not too large, dressed in black leather from head to toe, bald and with no eyebrows. He was wearing a cheerful smile on his face but had a deadly look in his eyes. His appearance resembled that of an elf, like Barbara, but Edward wasn’t that familiar with all the races well enough to be certain. After what Barbara told him about Gotham’s history, the human could hardly imagine why would an elf work for the King. Yet, here Zsasz was, presumably one of Penguin’s closest henchmen. He did not look particularly scary, like one would expect from a henchman, but there was something unnerving about him, something like a warning that one should not trifle with him, that despite his friendly demeanor he could be dangerous if provoked. Like a snake. 

 

“Victor. To what do we owe this pleasure?” Barbara greeted pleasantly. Edward was impressed with her acting skills. 

 

“Barbara, good to see you. Do you have food or are you still mostly eating grapes?” Victor Zsasz asked casually. He sounded like the friendly neighbor who came to visit. That somehow made him creepier. 

 

“Always asking for food, Victor. You haven’t changed at all. Doesn’t the King feed his dogs?” Barbara asked pointedly. 

 

Victor cleared his throat. “I don’t see why the hostility, Barbara. We’re the same, after all.” 

 

There was fire in Barbara’s eyes. “I’m nothing like you,” she hissed. “You betrayed your kind! The moment you started working for Penguin you were no longer an elf!” 

 

Victor Zsasz shrugged, not particularly moved by Barbara’s little speech. “Don’t we all work for the King?” he asked. “Or are you a traitor and an enemy?” 

 

Barbara tensed at the accusation. She was conspiring against Penguin, that was true, but she did not want everybody to know it, duh! 

 

“It’s different when you willingly choose to go against your kind,” she settled on saying. “Other than that, I’m the King’s greatest friend. Obviously. Huge fan.” 

 

Victor Zsasz chuckled then shrugged again, “But you don’t like me then. Oh, well. Pity you feel that way. I still think of you as a friend. We used to play together, remember?” Barbara did not grace that remark with a reply. Victor Zsasz continued unbothered, “Anyway, I’m here on behalf of King Penguin.” 

 

“What a surprise.” 

 

Victor ignored the sarcasm. “He’s inviting you to dinner,” he said instead.  

 

“Well, that’s very sweet of him but I’m afraid there’s nothing for us to talk about.” 

 

Victor Zsasz’s smile grew wider. “You’re not the only one invited. It’s a special dinner for the leaders of all races. So free food for everyone.” 

 

Leaders of all races, right. As if they had the influence to do anything. Penguin was the one with all the power! Yet Barbara paled slightly at the invitation. Other than that nothing in her behavior showed signs of distress. "Dinner for everyone?” she asked. “The Penguin King spends more than a hundred years alone in his castle, not allowing anyone to enter, shutting himself from the world and ruling from a distance, isolated and secluded, and now suddenly he's inviting us all to dinner? That doesn't sound like him at all. Has something happened?”  

 

“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” Zsasz shrugged again, plucking one of Barbara’s famous grapes and popping it into his mouth, then chewing loudly and with a healthy appetite. 

 

“You can kill people in your sleep. Some messenger you are,” Tabitha rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. It was the first time she said anything since the beginning of the meeting. “You’re a professional killer, Zsasz. If you’re delivering a message, it means trouble. So what’s the trouble?”

 

Edward swallowed. Could it be that Penguin somehow found out about Ed and his magic lessons? If he really had enchanted objects hidden in his castle then maybe he had some kind of magic mirror to keep him informed. What if he knew? What would he do?

 

“No trouble,” Zsasz shook his head, amused, holding both his hands up in mock surrender. “We’re all on the same side here.”  

 

Barbara exhaled. “Alright, Victor. We received the invitation and we graciously accept it. Not that we have a choice.”  

 

“Yeah, you don’t,” Zsasz chuckled amused. He was about to head for the door when suddenly he stopped and smiled back at them. “Oh, I almost forgot. King Penguin wants you to bring your human along, too.” 

 

Oh, no. 

 

“My  _ human _ ?” Barbara arched an eyebrow, acting as if she did not understand him. Next to her Tabitha was ready for a fight in case it came to that, Ed could tell. 

 

“Yeah,” Zsasz nodded, looking around as if admiring the interior. “Nice house.” 

 

“Jim Gordon is  _ not  _ my human,” Barbara snapped her fingers to get Zsasz’s attention back to her. “In case you’ve forgotten.” 

 

“King Penguin did not mean Gordon. Gordon has an invitation of his own,” Zsasz replied. 

 

“Wait. Gordon’s invited to that dinner too?” Barbara sounded outraged. Edward made a mental note to himself to carefully inquire who Jim Gordon was. 

 

“Every race is to be represented,” Victor Zsasz said. 

 

“But surely not Gordon!” Barbara exclaimed. “He’s not one of us.” 

 

“That is not something that concerns you,” Zsasz said calmly. “Penguin knows what he’s doing. Everyone is to attend,  _ including your human _ .” 

 

Barbara quickly regained her composure and smiled sweetly. “What human?”  

 

“The one you’ve been hiding here for a week. That human,” Zsasz explained patiently. “The tall skinny one with the glasses and the green clothes.” he scanned the room once more with his penetrating eyes, his nostrils working as if he were a hunting dog that could sniff Ed out. “The one who’s probably hiding in the closet right now. And listening in to this conversation. Naughty.” 

 

Barbara pursed her lips. “Ah.  _ That  _ human.” She forced another polite smile but this time it wasn’t as convincing as before. She knew when it was time to give up the pretence. 

 

“Yeah,” Zsasz nodded. “The King was waiting for you to introduce him yourself but I guess that ship has sailed. So, yeah. Bring him to the castle for the dinner. And smile. This is a cheerful occasion.” Zsasz smiled himself as if to give example and then waved them goodbye before he left. 

 

The moment they were alone again Barbara screamed angrily. She grabbed the first thing that she could reach, which happened to be a pretty teacup, and threw it at the wall, watching it break into million pieces. “Who told him!? Who?” she growled. 

 

Tabitha put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe Gabe? He was here when Ed arrived. Perhaps he put two and two together--” 

 

“Gabe is on our side!” Barbara yelled. “He wouldn’t be  _ that  _ stupid!” she gritted her teeth. “But if it was him, I’ll make him regret it!” 

 

Edward knocked on the door of the closet, reminding them to get him out of there. 

 

“Perhaps the King has other more magical means of finding what he wants,” He suggested when Tabitha opened the door for him. “Either ways, we have other things to concentrate on.” 

 

Barbara nodded, still panting and flaring. 

 

“Like this dinner,” Ed continued, glancing at both her and the amazon. “We’re going, are we?” 

 

“We really have no choice,” Tabitha replied, seeing that Barbara was in no state to articulate much content at the moment. 

 

“Maybe it’s not such a big deal,” Ed said. “It’s just a dinner after all.” Both women glared at him. He swallowed nervously. “Am I right?” 

 

“No. You’re far from right,” Barbara said, accentuating every word. “This is not just a dinner, Edward. Penguin knows about you, he knows a new human is in Gotham and he probably suspects who you are. He knows I’d use you against him and he’s taking you away from me!” 

 

“He’s getting back at you for Gordon,” Tabitha muttered. 

 

“That name again…” Edward whispered. 

 

“Shut up!” Barbara hissed at Tabby. Then she turned back to Edward. “Penguin could kill you. If you stand in his way, he’d kill you. Do you understand that?” 

 

Edward bit his lip, thinking. “Perhaps we could use this dinner to our advantage,” he finally said. 

 

“There’s no advantage here. We’re cornered. If we refuse the invitation, it means betrayal, war, and death for us. If we go to his dinner, we’ll be prisoners.” 

 

“A living prisoner is still dangerous,” Edward said carefully. He took a step closer to Barbara and Tabitha and tried to explain his point. “It  _ seems  _ like we’re cornered. But meeting the King could be a good thing. A useful thing.” 

 

Barbara furrowed her brows. “I’m listening.” 

 

He lowered his voice. “Look, we both know I’m not getting anywhere with my riddle magic.” Shameful as that was, it was also the truth and Edward wanted to be a realist. “But perhaps I could be helpful in another way. Show Penguin you’re not hiding me from him. show him you’re loyal despite his accusations. Prove him that he’s just being paranoid. And I could use that dinner to get close to him and destroy him.” 

 

“He won’t let you get close. He never lets anyone get close,” Tabitha interrupted. 

 

“He would if I play my cards right,” Edward insisted. “I’m a novelty, I’m a puzzle for him. He wants to see me, to know me, to figure me out. He’d want me around. Please, I know I can do this!” They were still hesitating so Ed quickly added, “Besides, if I’m near the magical objects he’s probably storing somewhere inside his castle, maybe they might trigger my own powers. I could find more knowledge there and use that to summon the Book.” 

 

Barbara gave it some thought. “Are you sure you’re up to it?” She finally asked. 

 

Tabitha gasped. “You actually believe him!? That human!? What if he’s using this to betray us? What if he sings everything to the goblin freak?” 

 

“I won’t! I don’t even know him and I like you two.” Edward squeaked. “I-- I’ve never had friends, you see. You’re the first friends I ever had. I wouldn’t betray you.” 

 

Glancing at Tabitha, Barbara calmly said, “I trust him,” then she headed to the door. “Now we all need to rest and get ready for the dinner.” 

 

Tabitha narrowed her eyes at Edward. “I’ll be watching you,” she warned and followed Babs. 


	5. Chapter V: The Iceberg Castle

Penguin was staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace. His brows were knitted together, his lips a tight line. He breathed in and out slowly as if to calm himself even though he did not seem agitated at all. He was very still, tranquil even. 

 

Victor Zsasz returned from his mission. After clearing his throat he remained silent at the door of the King’s study, waiting to be noticed. 

 

“I’m listening,” the Goblin King said, not glancing at his visitor. 

 

“I invited Barbara Kean as you ordered. Told her you knew about the human and that he should also come.” 

 

“And?” The King asked with mild interest. 

 

“She didn’t expect it. Tried to deny it. But she assured me they’ll come.” 

 

Penguin nodded. “Good. Did you see him?” 

 

“The human?” Zsasz shook his head. “He was hiding in the closet.” 

 

A mirthless smile graced Penguin’s face. “They always hide, these humans,” he said. Zsasz waited for his King to elaborate on the remark but the only thing he got was a dismissive wave so he bowed and left the King alone. 

 

Another human in Gotham. Why? Why was this happening again after all these years? Penguin still carried the scars from the last time a human came to Gotham. The worst of those scars were not seen with the eyes but felt by a sensitive heart. They were inner wounds, festering inside his soul, refusing to heal despite time and nourishment. Penguin shut his eyes tightly closed, wishing to banish those poisonous hurtful thoughts. There was no use dwelling on things that were no longer supposed to hurt him. He looked away from the fire, his gaze settling instead on the carpeted floor. 

 

_ “We’ll have a picnic here then! We don’t need the sun,” Jim gave him one of his widest smiles as he slid down to the carpet in front of the fireplace and tapped the space next to him. “Come on, Oswald. Don’t be a buzzkill.”  _

 

_ Penguin chuckled fondly and followed Jim’s example, settling nicely next to the human. Jim then slid closer to him and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into his warm embrace. Penguin closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Jim’s scent reminded him of home, for some reason. Not that his home ever smelled anything like James Gordon, the human, but there was something about it that made Oswald feel safe and happy.  _

 

_ When he opened his eyes Jim was struggling to pour wine in their empty glasses with only one hand. Oswald rolled his eyes and silently reached out with his own hand to assist him.  _

 

_ “We do wonders together, don’t we?” Jim then said, pleased when both glasses were full with the delicious liquid. “We make a great team.”  _

 

_ Oswald smiled and nodded. Their eyes met and he noticed that Jim was glancing down at Oswald’s lips, as if asking for permission. Oswald swallowed nervously. He blinked and gave a sheepish nod, waiting for what Jim was about to do next. A smirk spread across the human’s face and he slowly leaned in, his eyes fixed on Oswald’s lips as he closed the distance between them and-- _

 

Penguin dropped the glass of wine he was holding. The sound of its dull thump on the carpeted floor snapped him out of his reverie. He sighed. Perhaps that gathering was exactly what he needed. To get his subjects together in one place and remind them who their King was. Maybe even kill someone; it had been a while since his last real kill. Besides, it’d be good to keep a close eye on the human. Humans were not to be trusted, Penguin knew that from experience. 

 

~*~ 

 

The horses were in gentle canter. Tabitha was riding at the front, Barbara and Ed followed closeby. There were a few other elves behind them who were meant to guard them and carry their belongings. It was mostly Barbara’s clothes since Tabby didn’t care much about fashion and Ed didn’t really have a great variety of outfits. Just the one green suit, really. It was probably important to make a good impression to the King in order to be able to get close to him. Close enough to finish him off. Or at least gain his favor and consequently have some control over him, learn what was his undoing. But for now the green suit had to do.  

 

“Tell me more about him,” Edward said one more time. 

 

“I told you everything I know,” Barbara said impatiently. “And I’m still not convinced this is a good idea. He hates humans, you know. You’re in danger just by setting foot in his home.” 

 

Edward knew that. Yet he still saw it as a sort of challenge. Or perhaps a puzzle? To solve the mystery that was the Penguin King, to outsmart that clever man who managed to surprise everyone and take control over all of Gotham for 200 years. Despite being a goblin, which apparently was a very unfortunate thing to be in this world. Damn racism; it found its way to existence even in a magical realm. 

 

The Iceberg Castle, the home of the Penguin King, was a majestic mass of stone, with thick walls and impressive appearance. The gates were open, gaping at them as if ready to consume them. It was supposed to be a welcoming gesture, however, it hardly left that impression in Edward’s heart. The fact that they were allowed inside felt more like a threat than the honor it was meant to be. 

 

As Edward and his new friends entered the castle grounds, they slowed down their horses which gave Ed a better chance to look around. Between the gates and the castle itself laid a broad yard, elegantly decorated by various statues. It was rather pretty, Edward thought right before he was hit by the realization that these statues were probably all the people Penguin had turned to stone over the centuries. “Magnificent…” he whispered to himself, unable to stay impartial to the sight. The Iceberg Castle was a sight to behold and the show of power with the displayed statues was strangely exciting. He was glad Barbara did not notice how intrigued he truly was -- he didn’t want her to doubt his loyalties. He was, after all, entirely on her side. 

 

In the distance before and behind them Ed could see other groups, delegations representing different Gotham races, on their way to the Castle. Edward recognized trolls and centaurs, some furry creatures that resembled werewolves and werecats, short ones that Ed presumed were dwarfs, and many others he was yet unfamiliar with. He remained silent as they approached the royal castle. There was nothing to say really, and even if he did have certain questions he decided to leave them for later just in case someone was listening in. 

 

He glanced at Barbara again. She looked perfectly composed and in control on her horse. One might not even suspect how unnerved she truly was. Edward only knew it because he had witnessed it earlier. Edward himself was calm. However, the closer they got, the more perturbed he felt. Suddenly overcome by self-doubts and insecurities, he began questioning his entire decision to stay in Gotham. But then he saw  _ him _ . Or more like, he saw a shadow. Up in the window of one of the upper rooms of the caste Ed saw someone, a dark figure, standing and observing. Ed sensed a pair of eyes  _ looking _ . Penguin was watching them enter his grounds, like bugs he could squash if he so chose. The magnificence of the gesture sent shivers down Edward’s spine. What was it like to have so much power? What was it like to be able to turn people to stone and then expose them as decoration for all to see, for all to fear? Edward couldn’t help feel a wave of excitement mixed with curiosity. He had to meet the Penguin King. Even if it was only to be locked away afterwards, he had to see the goblin who could do whatever he pleased. 

 

It took a lot more waiting than Edward expected before they could actually see the King. Edward soon realized that Penguin was going to keep them in suspense before finally showing himself to them. Did he know how curious Ed was to meet him? Did he know and was now willingly teasing Edward? Probably not. But it definitely felt that way. 

 

They were greeted by Zsasz who instantly grinned at them like an old friend. “So good to see you arrived, Barbara! I would’ve hated to kill you for treason.” 

 

Barbara gave a tight smile back. 

 

“And the human’s here too!” Zsasz chuckled at Ed. “Good. He looks a bit green, doesn’t he?” 

 

Ed self-consciously glanced down at his green suit but before he could say anything Barbara pulled him away from Zsasz and pushed him further into the main hall. 

 

The main hall was just as impressive as everything else Edward had seen of the castle so far. Beautiful engravings graced the walls, the stone pillars and even the ceilings. Naturally there were statues here too, stylishly arranged and decorated with flowers. Kinky, Edward thought as he observed each detail. He was so enraptured by what he was seeing and his own thoughts that he almost didn’t hear it when Barbara called for him. 

 

“Edward? Edward! This way,” she jerked her head in the direction of the nearby grand staircase and pulled him by the wrist again. 

 

“When are we finally going to see the King?” Edward asked impatiently. 

 

Tabitha, who never left their side even in all the commotion with all the arriving guests, snorted. 

 

“Not any time soon, I can promise you that,” Barbara said. “He rarely shows himself in daylight. And it’s only the afternoon. If we even see him today, it would be in the evening. Probably at dinner. Until then protocol dictates we go refresh ourselves in the chambers they’ve prepared for us.” 

 

Edward nodded to show his understanding. Yet, he had to swallow down his disappointment at the perspective of waiting longer before he could finally see the curious creature that was the Penguin King.

 

~*~ 

 

Edward wanted to explore. He couldn’t just stay in his rooms, glorious and exquisite as they were. He needed to feel the magic of this place, get closer to it somehow and hopefully find a way to feel it rise inside himself as well. The enchanted objects he had heard about from Barbara and Tabitha had to be somewhere in this castle and Ed would’ve been an idiot not to go look for them. He freshened up as he was supposed to and then carefully sneaked out of his bedchamber, taking the first mysterious staircase he stumbled across, curious to see where it would lead him. This was an adventure! 

 

~*~  

 

Oswald observed the arriving guests from the window of his favorite study. He spent most of his time there, enjoying the familiarity of it. Today more than ever he needed that feeling of security the study gave him. Today when his home was filled with people who hated him, people who wished him dead. He could name each and every one of them, his subjects and his enemies, even though he hadn’t really left his castle, his fortress, for so long. He noticed Jim was there too, arriving with the centaurs, side by side with Harvey Bullock. Once upon a time it used to be Harvey leading the centaurs. Now it was Jim. A human. A human leader for the centaurs. Oswald could still not quite understand how Jim managed to achieve that. How did he convince this proud race to submit to a two-legged outsider. Did he use the centaurs’ loyalty for King Carmine, playing the human card? Whatever he did to gain their trust, Oswald couldn’t help the deep admiration he still felt for Jim and his skills and determination. It was those same qualities that had won Oswald’s affections all those decades ago. 

 

He swallowed. He didn’t expect to be this moved by Jim’s presence in his home. That the mere sight of him from a distance would fill Oswald’s heart with flutter and anticipation, anxiety and… fear. Much as he hated to admit it, he feared Jim Gordon. Or to be more precise, he feared losing control around him. The last time he opened up to Jim more than he ever had to anyone else before. He even told Jim his name which was a mistake he rectified later on with the help of a memory potion. There was no telling what Oswald might do around Jim this time; he didn’t trust himself not to fall for the human’s charm again. Like he did once back when Jim was still new in Gotham. Back before Jim turned against him. Back before Jim ran away with Barbara Kean… 

 

Speaking of Barbara. There she was now, riding along the new human. Did she have a thing for humans? Always in search for one. What was so special about this particular human, Penguin wondered. How did he even get to Gotham when Oswald made sure to seal all portals to and from other dimensions. There was no way he missed one. Therefore, the new human must’ve used an enchanted object as a key to unlock a portable portal, so to speak. A portal that could be opened anywhere and at any time. What object could achieve this? The first that came to Oswald’s mind was the Book of Riddles. However, the Book of Riddles had been lost for centuries, since before King Carmine Falcone died. So it could not be the Book of Riddles that brought the newcomer to their world. Still… Whatever the answer, Oswald would soon find out. The human was here now, on Oswald’s theritory, in Oswald’s castle where Oswald was strongest. No way he’d keep the secret for long. 

 

Penguin approached a bulk of ice in the middle of his study and said, “Show me the human. The-- the new human, not Jim Gordon.” 

 

The ice changed its colors until it finally settled on an icy blue glow. Inside the ice block appeared a figure, pacing in one of the guestrooms. The image, trapped inside the ice statue, was surprisingly clear and very real. Oswald could detail the features of the tall man’s face without difficulties. He leaned in to take a better look. “He looks impatient… I wonder why he wants to see me so much.” The human inside the ice went to the mirror, mumbled something to his reflection and then sneaked out of the room. Oswald chuckled. “Well, well, well. He’s a naughty green bean, isn’t he?” 

 

Curious, Oswald followed the man’s little exploration. It amused him in a way he hadn’t been amused in a long time. No one else dared to stroll around his castle like that, looking for trouble. Every Gothamite would be afraid that Penguin might execute them for it. Yet this human seemed incapable of resisting his curiosity. Surely Barbara had warned him how dangerous Penguin was. The man was reckless! It was refreshing to find such a curious mind. 

 

Oswald observed the human’s clumsy little adventures in the castle halls for a few more minutes before he waved his hand at the ice and the glow with the figure in it were gone. It turned into an ordinary ice block once again. 

 

Oswald retreated to his armchair in front of the fireplace and fell deep in thought. Perhaps he had to speak to the human sooner than he had originally planned. Perhaps he had to lead the human to himself right now and get the answers he needed. This human was a mystery. A puzzle. A riddle. Oswald did not like riddles. 

 

~*~  

 

Edward explored room after room, one hall after another, libraries and studies, many rooms that appeared utterly empty. The castle was huge. It was impossible to check everything in a day, let alone a couple of hours. It was getting darker. The sun was long set and dinner time was soon. Edward had to head back. If Barbara discovered his absence she might be disappointed with him. She did warn him to be extra careful and instead he-- well, he was being utterly reckless, snooping around the King’s castle. Penguin had probably turned people to stone for less.  

 

He was about to turn back when a strange glow attracted his attention. He followed it, feeling almost hypnotized by its beauty and mysticism. Could this be the Book calling him? Edward had no idea how this worked so it was absolutely possible for this blueish icy light to actually be the Riddle Book! Excitement budded in his stomach and his chest. He felt his heart beat faster, his palms were unpleasantly moist and he wiped them on his suit. His long legs strode after the light, chasing it through dim corridors and strange passages. Yet the light was always a few steps ahead of him. He couldn’t see the source, he could only see it as a glimmer of something greater he was about to discover. 

 

The chase ended when Edward reached a wooden door in a secluded part of the castle. He looked around. No one seemed to be nigh. He swallowed nervously and called out, “H-hello?” His voice echoed strangely, followed by silence. “Is anyone there?” 

 

Once again nothing but silence.  

 

Edward’s eyes fell back on the door before him. His palms were even sweatier now and he hated it. He wished he could wash his hands again. Instead he decided to reach for the handle and check what was inside. He’d come all this way, after all, it’d be stupid to turn back now. He twisted the handle and the door opened with a soft creek, allowing Edward to step inside, heart drumming in his ears. He felt like he could faint any moment. There had to be magic here! He could feel  _ something  _ that definitely could be magic. What other explanation was there for the glow if not magic?  

 

“Hello?” Edward showed his head inside the room and slowly entered it. “Oh…” 

 

It was a study! A really cozy and neat one. The glow was nowhere to be seen but there were lots of books and two comfortable armchairs in front of a cozy fireplace. Surprisingly, there was a bed in one corner, not too big but by the looks of it comfortable enough. A weird ice statue stood proudly on a small pedestal in the middle of the room, a peculiar decoration no doubt but clever. Edward took a few steps further into the room. A soft pleasant feeling under his shoes made him look down. It was a beautiful purple carpet decorated with golden threads and ornaments. Edward smiled. This whole place was unlike any of the other rooms, halls and chambers Edward saw in the castle so far. It had to be special somehow. 

 

The study was rather dim. The only light coming from the lit fireplace and the light reflected from the ice block. The purple curtains on the windows were heavy, giving a particular feeling of regal magnificence and doing an amazing job of keeping the outside world out. Other than a few more strikingly expensive objects such as candle sticks and a few paintings, the place lacked the grandeur of the rest of the castle. It was more like a private hideout. Which made Edward wonder who was hiding here? Who used this place? It was definitely used by someone, he could tell it was regularly inhabited. Maybe even more so than the rest of the castle. Ed put his hands on his hips and thought for a moment, looking for clues. 

 

“Can I help you with something?” A voice came from one of the dim corners of the room, causing Edward to jump startled as he turned his head in the direction of the voice. 

 

“Sorry! I didn’t think anyone was here.” he muttered, tilting his head to try to make out the features of the person in front of him. “I was just-- following a strange light…” A wild suspicion made his heart skip a beat. “Was that you?” he asked hopeful. “Are you the light?” 

 

Could this person be the embodiment of the Book? Did the Book come to life in the form of this stranger? 

 

The person took a step closer to Edward, getting out of the shadows. He chuckled. “No. I’m no light,” he said. 

 

Edward took a moment to examine the stranger. He was short. Well, shorter than Edward for sure. At least one head shorter. His face was very interesting, a face one definitely remembered. Black hair, a big long nose, not the smoothest skin one could see, thin lips. But what was most striking about it were the man’s blue-greenish eyes. They were remarkable, sparkling in an unearthly way. Edward felt his breath hitch at the sight. The man was dressed in black elegant-looking clothes. He had put some effort into his outfit, that much was obvious. A purple vest enveloped his chest and a pretty tiepin graced his tie. He was holding a cane in his right hand, leaning on it quite heavily now that Ed thought about it. When he walked he waddled as if his leg was giving him pain. Edward looked back up at the man’s face again. 

 

“Who are you then? I’m Edward,” he said, offering his hand for a shake.  

 

The man looked at Edward’s extended hand as if not sure what to do with it initially until a small breathy chuckle escaped his lips. He hesitated a moment before transferring the cane to his left hand and shaking Edward’s right one. 

 

“It’s a pleasure, Edward,” the man said. He held Edward’s hand a beat longer and then suddenly released it as if burnt by the touch. He took a step back and smiled politely. “I trust you find your quarters to your satisfaction?” 

 

Edward frowned a little before giving a nod. “Oh, yes. They’re quite neat,” he said. And then it clicked. “Are you the housekeeper?” 

 

It made perfect sense! Of course this man had to be the housekeeper! Or whatever they called the King’s butler. He inquired after Edward's satisfaction with his rooms, he was obviously looking after the castle. He was too well-dressed to be a regular servant, even at the palace. This room that obviously belonged to him was not luxurious enough to make him a nobleman. He had to be the housekeeper! It was clear as day. Pleased with his excellent deduction, Edward waited for the man’s response.  

 

“I guess you could call me that,” the Housekeeper said with an amused little smile on his lips. “And you’re the new human, aren’t you?” 

 

Edward grinned. “That obvious, huh? Or am I just famous?” 

 

“Humans tend to stand out in Gotham,” the Housekeeper allowed.  

 

So they were making conversation now. Excellent! Edward was more than happy with this outcome. The Housekeeper could give him tons of useful information about the castle. Ed sat in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace, making himself at home. “I guess we do,” he replied pleasantly. “And pardon me for asking but what are you exactly? Your race, I mean. I’m new at Gotham and I’m still learning. You look quite human to me (I’m saying this in the best possible sense) but I’m sure human you are not. I don’t mean to offend. I’m just curious and can’t place your race.”  

 

Slowly the Housekeeper limped towards the other armchair and made himself comfortable there. “You haven’t seen many creatures like me then during your stay in Gotham?” 

 

Edward shook his head. “Not at all. Granted, it’s not such a long stay. I’ve been here for like a week. But no, I haven't seen anyone quite like you. And mind you I observed many of the races arriving here today.” 

 

“You won’t find my kind among those,” the Housekeeper shook his head, leaning back into his armchair and looking at Edward with unconcealed interest. 

 

Edward, on the other hand, leaned forward to get closer to the man, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “Why? What happened to them?” 

 

“Oh, we tend to hide,” he said. “And there really aren’t that many of us left in Gotham.” 

 

Edward’s face saddened at that. He wanted to make sure he was expressing his compassion properly. “I’m sorry to hear it. I’m glad you’re still around though.” 

 

The man’s lips spread into another smile. “Thank you. I’m glad for it too.”  

 

The grandfather clock stroke 7:30 and Edward jumped with a start. “Oh, dear! It’s nearly 8 o’clock. The King’s dinner starts at 8 o’clock, as you know.” 

 

The Housekeeper nodded. 

 

“I should go. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to be late and start things with the King on the wrong foot. But I’d really love to come around and chat with you some more. Is that okay?” 

 

The Housekeeper nodded again. The soft smile remained on his face the entire time, despite his silence. 

 

“Well, goodbye then! I’ll see you first thing tomorrow,” Ed said enthusiastically and got up from the armchair, once again offering his hand to the Housekeeper. 

 

The shorter man took it and shook it, this time without hesitation. “That sounds good,” he said. 

 

Ed rushed outside, trying to find his way back to his rooms as quickly as possible without getting lost. He also did his best to remember where to find the Housekeeper’s room. He didn’t want to miss his chance to see the little man again tomorrow. 


	6. Chapter VI. The Housekeeper of the Iceberg Castle

The King did not show up for dinner. Typical! Typical kingly behavior. At least so Ed gathered from Barbara’s annoyance. Penguin was playing a game of nerves with them, that was his thing, Barbara said. He was a manipulator. He was wearing them down, burning their patience like a candle, to weaken them, make them bow down to him. Edward suspected there was another reason for Barbara’s anger but he didn’t want to speculate on the matter. Yet it was worth noting that she became more impatient and frustrated after exchanging a few private words with Jim Gordon. Their short conversation did not seem to go too well. The mere presence of the man seemed to irritate Barbara to no end. There must have been some history there but that still remained to be uncovered. Edward himself didn’t get to meet the human in person although he glanced his way from a distance. Jim Gordon had a typical golden boy beauty and similar attitude, too. But that was only Ed’s impression from afar. They were bound to talk to one another at one point, them being the only two humans in all of Gotham. But all in good time. For now Edward was more than pleased to have the Housekeeper. That curiously thrilling man was a better find than dozens of Jim Gordons combined. If Ed had to be honest, he was less concerned with the King’s mind games and his absence at the moment and more excited about his conversations with the Housekeeper. In a way it was even better that Penguin was hiding from his guests. The longer he kept them waiting, the more regularly Ed would be able to converse with that interesting small man in one of the most secluded rooms of the castle. What a great potential source of inside information that creature was! He definitely knew the King better than Barbara, considering that he spent his days serving him whereas Barbara hadn’t really seen the King in ages. As a bonus the Housekeeper also knew the castle like the back of his hand. He must’ve noticed something peculiar about it, something that could tip Edward off on where he could find any enchanted objects. The only thing Ed had to do was befriend him, and they were halfway there already with the Housekeeper being so nice to him the other day. 

 

Edward was filled with excitement as he knocked on the now familiar wooden door and waited to be let in. From the inside he heard the noise of a few uneven thumps, like someone limping, and then he was met with the bright blue-green eyes of the creature. Edward flinched internally at that thought. Despite the fact that the Housekeeper himself used the epitet “creature” to describe his kind, the word felt wrong to Edward. This pleasant though peculiar person was definitely not a “creature”. A “creature” would suggest lack of self-awareness. The man standing before Edward was intelligent, interesting, full of personality and understanding. This man was not a “creature” and Edward could not call him that even in the privacy of his mind. 

 

“Oh, you actually returned,” the Housekeeper greeted him with a bright smile. His eyes had a pleasant glimmer to them. Edward liked it. 

 

He entered the study/bedroom, feeling quite welcomed by his host. Despite the fact that Edward had only been in this room once before tonight, he already felt a connection between the Housekeeper and himself, like they knew one another from before. The two were quickly falling into a pattern of their own, Edward settling comfortably in the armchair opposite the Housekeeper's and waiting for the other man to join him. The fireplace was lit again, keeping the room pleasantly warm but not too hot. There were tea and sweets on the table between the two armchairs, which was an evidence enough for Ed that the Housekeeper was expecting him, perhaps even hoping he would visit again. That was encouraging. 

 

“The King is not showing himself, keeping us all waiting for him, so I was free,” Ed smiled. 

 

“Ah. So you’re here to pass the time?” the Housekeeper offered. 

 

Ed shook his head. “Not exactly. I enjoyed our last chat so I was hoping for more.” 

 

The Housekeeper did not say anything to that but he gave Ed a warm smile. 

 

“Does he do that a lot? The King, I mean,” Ed asked matter-of-factly. “Hiding like that and keeping people waiting?” 

 

“He has that inclination, yes,” the shorter man allowed. “Usually no one ever comes to the Castle. Other than a few persons, of course.” 

 

Ed sipped from his tea thoughtfully. “That’s peculiar. But I guess it makes sense. He is the King after all. He has to maintain a certain level of…” 

 

“... yes?” 

 

“Well… mystery, I suppose?” The Housekeeper remained silent again but there was approval in his eyes. Ed leaned in and whispered dramatically with a wink, “You know, I think he finally invited people over because of me.” 

 

“Oh, is that so?” the Housekeeper asked, amused. 

 

Ed nodded with a grin as he relaxed back into his armchair. “I’m positive,” then, not wishing to talk too much about the King, Ed cleared his throat and continued, “You never told me what your race is exactly.” 

 

“I didn’t?” the Housekeeper tilted his head curiously. Ed shook his head and the other man chuckled. “That’s so strange. I thought I did. Do you like the tea?” 

 

Edward nodded. “Oh, yes! Very much so!” he replied enthusiastically. He noticed the subtle change of topic but decided to leave that for another time. Perhaps the Housekeeper was self-conscious about his race. After all, he did mention there weren’t many of his kind left in Gotham. And the tea was really lovely. “Did you make it?” 

 

“I did,” the Housekeeper’s face cleared up almost instantly. “It’s a special recipe from my mother.” When Edward examined his face more closely he noticed the Housekeeper’s features were softer; even his sharp nose and expressive eyebrows seemed calmer, more relaxed somehow. A warm smile spread across his lips.  

 

“She must’ve been really special,” Edward said, returning the smile. 

 

“She was,” he said thoughtfully as sadness settled on his face. He suddenly seemed miles away, lost in old memories. 

 

“What happened to her?” Edward dared to ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“She died. A long time ago,” the Housekeeper said simply. He was trying to keep his voice even but it was clear as day that the topic was hurtful for him, making him feel uncomfortable. Edward sensed that and decided it was best to change the subject. This was not supposed to be an unpleasant visit. “The tea really is lovely. It’s much better than what we had back home.” 

 

“Back home? In your human world?” The Housekeeper asked, glad to drop the topic of his dead mother. 

 

“Yes. It was really boring there though,” Edward said. 

 

The Housekeeper shifted in his seat and sipped from his own cup of tea. “How did you get here exactly? So few of your kind manage to find Gotham. It doesn’t seem like an easy thing to do, yet here you are.” 

 

Amused by the Housekeeper’s curiosity, Edward suppressed a chuckle. Quid pro quo, he thought. The Housekeeper wanted more details about Edward’s arrival, Edward wanted to know more about the Castle and its master. It worked out perfectly! Besides, Ed had nothing to hide. Almost. 

 

“It was a very strange and peculiar experience,” he admitted, putting the tea aside and directing his attention instead on the sweets. They too were quite delicious, like everything in this Castle. “I was reading in the library and then suddenly I was in a forest.” 

 

“Just like that?” the Housekeeper said in awe. 

 

“Just like that,” Edward smiled widely, pleased to have impressed the man. “It was the most bizarre experience of my life. Not that my life had much excitement… I spent most of my time reading but I really enjoy it.” 

 

“That’s good.” 

 

“And you?” 

 

“Me?” the Housekeeper asked alarmed. “What about me? I too like to read… occasionally…” 

 

“No, I mean, how did you get your position in the castle? Must’ve had a lot of competition.” 

 

“Oh, definitely,” the Housekeeper smirked. “But I outfoxed them all.”  

 

They both laughed. 

 

“Neat,” Ed grinned. “And the King?” 

 

“What about him?” 

 

“Does he-- like you? Is he good to you?” 

 

The Housekeeper looked at him kind of funny. Ed did not even try to hide his curiosity. Why would he? Being curious about the Mysterious Penguin King should hardly be that surprising or out of the ordinary. 

 

“He’s-- alright.” The Housekeeper replied but he seemed a little uneasy to discuss this matter. 

 

Ed laughed loudly at that, which nearly startled the small man. He blinked at him confused, waiting for an explanation. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Ed said, slowly calming himself down. “It’s just that, you called the King  _ alright _ .”

 

“So?” 

 

Coming from the Housekeeper the question sounded so innocent and naive it only made Ed laugh harder. “Wouldn’t the King mind to be merely considered ‘alright’?” 

 

“Oh,” the Housekeeper chuckled sheepishly. “Well, he’s not as vain as one might expect.” 

 

“Isn’t he? Hmm,” Ed leaned in again, curiosity rising. “What is he like? I mean, I know he doesn’t like company. But other than that, nothing.” 

 

The Housekeeper tilted his head, lacing his fingers together in front of his face. “Why do you ask?” 

 

Ed shrugged. “I’m curious.” 

 

“I’m sure you’ve heard others speak of the King. People do little else than talk.” The last words were said with a suppressed sort of disdain. 

 

Ed rolled his eyes. “They do. But none of them really know him, do they? I want accurate information.” 

 

A soft smile spread across the Housekeeper’s face. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to draw your own conclusions about him when you meet him.” 

 

Ed nodded. “I suppose that’s true,” he sighed but then quickly smiled at the Housekeeper again. “Still, I much prefer your company, so this is actually good. We don’t need the King right now, do we?” 

 

The Housekeeper chuckled amused, the tension in his shoulders slowly disappearing. He nodded. “Not really. It’s nice to just… forget about the King for a while.” 

 

“I bet!” Edward chuckled. Encouraged by the warm friendship that was blossoming between the them, he proceeded with another topic he was very interested in. “This castle though. It’s  _ so  _ beautiful. We have castles in my world too but none of them like this. Although ours have lots of secret rooms and passages. Places to hide things. That was exciting.” 

 

The Housekeeper put his own tea down on the table and leaned in with a small clever smirk on his face. “Are you interested in secret places, Edward?” he whispered. 

 

Edward’s heart skipped a beat. Was that it? Was the Housekeeper really about to give him the information he wanted? Just like that? So easily? That was unexpected, not to mention very suspicious. 

 

“I’m interested in all kinds of puzzles and mysteries,” Ed replied, leaning forward himself. Their faces were suddenly very close, conspiratorially, Ed’s nose nearly touching the Housekeeper’s large beak-like nose. “I have great appetite for knowledge.” 

 

“Oh,” the Housekeeper chuckled a little breathlessly. “I’m sure your curiosity is enormous.” 

“It is,” Ed assured, feeling strange heat rising in the pit of his stomach. “Are you going to satisfy it?” 

 

The Housekeeper’s cheeks flushed red for some reason and he pulled away, reclining back into the huge armchair. “You ask dangerous questions, young man,” he said, eyes cast to the fire. His containance changed from the friendliness Edward was so used to by now to a sort of gloomy seriousness. 

 

“Why?” Edward couldn’t help but ask. 

 

“Some things are better left unknown. Some mysteries better stay unsolved.”

 

Edward pffed. “Clearly you don’t know me then. I never leave anything unsolved.”  

 

“Doesn’t your curiosity get you into trouble then?” the Housekeeper asked. 

 

“Sometimes,” Ed grinned. “But I say it’s worth it. This place is  _ magical  _ !” 

 

The Housekeeper paled. “Why do you say that?” he asked alarmed. 

 

“No reason, it just… looks magical. Doesn’t it? It’s just a word!” 

 

“But why use  _ this  _ particular word, hmm? Why?” The Housekeeper insisted. 

 

“I-- I don’t know, I just-- just--” Ed stuttered, the Housekeeper’s penetrating blue-green gaze suddenly making him feel trapped. “It’s the impression it gives, I suppose…” 

 

“Well, it’s the wrong word,” the Housekeeper said sternly, all amusement gone from his face. “There’s nothing magical about this castle,” he insisted, rising up from his chair abruptly. “I have work to do. You should leave now.” 

 

“But we were--” 

 

“Excuse me,” he said, looking at Ed pointedly, waiting for him to leave his room. 

 

Reluctantly Edward got up from his chair and silently headed to the door, feeling like a scorned schoolboy. He’d always been famous for his social ineptitude but today even he understood that his company was no longer desired. Something about the word _ “magical”  _ had triggered the Housekeeper and ruined their lovely conversation. That was very telling and Edward was now more sure than ever that this Castle definitely had hidden dark secrets. However, the Housekeeper seemed more than upset with Edward’s impertinence. Ed wished he could make amends. He stopped by the door, his hand resting on the door handle. 

 

“If I said something untoward, I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I never meant to upset you. I only wanted to know what’s going on here. I’m looking for answers, trying to find my purpose. I’m looking for-- for myself. Strange as it sounds. I believe I’m here for a reason. I was hoping you could help me discover it. But I never meant to upset you for it. Again, I’m sorry.” 

 

The Housekeeper listened very carefully but remained silent. Edward waited a beat before he left the study. 


	7. Chapter VII: When Some Masks Fall but Other Remain

“Where the hell have you been?” Tabitha groaned at him the moment he was back in his room. 

 

“I was taking a stroll?” Edward lied. He didn’t want to explain to them the whole Housekeeper situation just yet. It was still personal at this stage and he had nothing to share with them about the King or about magic. “Why? Did something happen?” 

 

Tabitha punched his bicep lightly. “Barbara and I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You’re risking your life, boy!” 

 

“I’m actually a grown man and--” Ed muttered but was quickly cut off. 

 

“ _ Boy _ ! You  _ are a boy! _ A little baby that needs constantly to be looked after!” Tabitha insisted, hands on her hips. 

 

“That was uncalled for,” Ed swallowed but in her anger Tabitha wasn’t even listening to him. 

 

“I have to tell Babs you’re here and safe. She was freaking out because of you!” She headed for the door. 

 

“If it’s any consolation, I never meant to freak anybody out,” Edward called after her. 

 

“Yeah, and I never mean to hurt my attackers, I just maim them out of kindness,” Tabitha rolled her eyes and left the room, slamming the door on her way out. 

 

Edward’s heart was beating like crazy, his blood rushing in his ears, making his head spin. He was ashamed to admit that his hands were shaking a little bit, as were his knees. Tabitha was making him feel nervous and inept. He knew she didn’t like him but he couldn’t quite understand what was he doing wrong. He’d been nothing but nice to them both the entire time. So why was Tabitha so hostile? Perhaps it was just her way. Or perhaps he was  _ too  _ nice and that just made him appear weak. It was just like home all over again. He had to change something about his behavior, or else they’d all be walking all over him in Gotham, like they did back home. 

 

He had a moment to breathe and refresh himself a bit after his heated conversation with the Housekeeper, before Barbara and Tabitha barged into his chambers. 

 

“You’re alive! Thank goodness!” Barbara gasped, pulling him into a suffocatingly tight hug, then pushing him away to land her fist on his chest. “How could you!? I thought he got you!” 

 

Ed frowned. “He?” 

 

“The little gremlin, of course!” Barbara hissed, her eyes a tight line. “You can’t go about the castle like that. This whole place belongs to him. It’s hard for me to protect you here. He can do with you as he pleases.” 

 

“By the same logic he could do with me as he pleases in this room too. It belongs to him after all,” Edward supplied helpfully but only received two pairs of angry glares in return. “Sorry.”  

 

Barbara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose then massaging her temples as if to chase away a headache. “Let’s not make it easier for him to get you, okay?” she huffed. “This is unbelievable. This whole gathering is ridiculous.” She gracefully flopped down on Edward’s bed and closed her eyes just to let them rest for a bit. “I hate everything about it. And Jim Gordon of all people! Do you believe him? Penguin actually invited Jim Gordon here. Jim!  _ A human _ .” She glanced at Edward. “No offense, Ed.” 

 

“None taken. I think…” Ed assured quietly. 

 

Barbara continued without paying too much attention if Ed was offended or not. “Leader of the Centaurs! Those idiot half-horses actually made him their leader! How stupid is that?” She laughed but there was no mirth in it. 

 

“Don’t think about him now, Babs,” Tabitha offered, sitting down next to the elf and gently squeezing her sides. Her hands were massaging Barbara with gentleness Ed did not expect from the amazon.  

 

“How can I? When he’s _ right in my face _ ?” Barbara groaned. She then looked at her friend and pouted. “He’s ruining my life, Tabby.” 

 

Edward remained a silent and awkward observer to their conversation. He assumed he too should somehow participate in it, say  _ something _ , but he wasn’t sure how so he remained quiet instead.  

 

“Not only did they send him as their representative, they also made him their leader.”

 

“He’s been pretty tight with the centaurus for some time now,” Tabitha allowed. “He lives like one of them.” 

 

Her remark only seemed to annoy Barbara more. “He’s an idiot! He could’ve had so much more than a stinky Centaur life!” 

 

Tabitha hesitated for a moment -- something Edward had never seen her do -- and then asked carefully,  “You’re not still upset about him, are you?” 

 

Barbara gave her a dangerous glare. “Hardly!” she exclaimed. “I don’t care if the man’s dead or alive! Men are the reason for every evil in this land,” once again she glanced at Ed. “No offense, Eddie. You’re the exception, of course. It’s everyone else that are pigs.” 

 

Edward swallowed nervously. “What exactly did Jim Gordon do? I mean, why do you hate him so much?” he finally dared to ask the question that had been playing in his head for some time now. “If I’m to get involved in all this, I’d rather know now and from you then be surprised later.”  

 

Barbara narrowed her eyes a little as if trying to read straight through him. Then she said, “I was reluctant to mention Gordon before because him and I used to have a fling.” 

 

“A  _ fling _ ?” Tabitha snorted. “You wanted to  _ marry  _ the guy.” 

 

Barbara’s lips were a tight line. “Yes, thanks for the clarification, Tabitha.” 

 

“You even got yourself a dress and everything. You had it baaaad for that m--” 

 

“Will you hold your tongue already? You might lose it,” Barbara warned, baring her teeth at her lover and friend. 

 

“You like what I do with my tongue  _ way too much  _ to ever cut it off,” the amazon smirked. 

 

Barbara did not even blush. She only rolled her eyes and continued as if the interruption never happened, “Anyway. The point is, Jim Gordon used to be on Penguin’s side for a long time. Ever since he first got in Gotham. He was loyal too. Until I made him see how corrupt the King truly is. Jim then switched sides. He became  _ our  _ friend instead. Or so we thought until he decided to leave us too and go to the centaurus!” 

 

“And now he’s their representing them like a leader. They’re not even his own race. That  _ is  _ impressive,” Edward muttered thoughtfully. “He must be a really clever man.” 

 

“That hardly matters! What’s important is, Penguin doesn’t forget. I wonder what his reaction would be when he sees dear old Jim in his home.” Barbara laughed amused at the thought. 

 

“Well, he probably already knows,” Edward said, frowning a little. 

 

“Maybe that’s why he’s hiding,” Tabitha added with another one of her smirks. “The limping  _ freak  _ must be losing his mind in one of his many rooms.” 

 

Barbara laughed at the image in her head. 

 

“Limping?” Ed repeated confused. “Why did you call him a  _ limping  _ freak? Does he… does he have a limp?” 

 

“Didn’t I tell you?” Barbara sighed. “Yes, the King has a limp. Something’s wrong with his right leg. We don’t know what it is. He never lets anyone close. But he’s limping alright. Waddles like a penguin, hense the name.” 

 

Edward was struck by the sudden realization as the image of the Housekeeper limping to his armchair in front of the fire came back to life in his mind’s eye. It could not be! It was impossible! Could the Housekeeper…?  

 

“I have to go!” Edward said suddenly and ignoring Barbara and Tabitha calling after him as he ran out of his room. 

 

~*~  

 

Oswald was pacing in his room. There was this feeling of uneasiness in his chest and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It was definitely the human’s fault. The new one. He was not what Oswald had expected. Oswald assumed the new human would be cunning and unpleasant, malicious and unlikeable. Instead he met with someone quite interesting, entertaining, clever, intelligent and definitely pleasant to be around. The fact that Edward had no idea he was speaking with the king only made Oswald relax more into their conversation. It was becoming dangerous. He was getting  _ too comfortable  _ around the human and that was never a good thing. And then, of course, Oswald’s fears came true when Edward used the dreadful word.  _ Magical _ . Why use the word  _ magical _ ? It only suggested that Edward knew, or at least suspected, who the “Housekeeper” was, that he was playing him. Either that or he was snooping around, no doubt in order to conjure an infinite number of cunning plans with Barbara. The elf was definitely trying to use the human against Oswald. Or perhaps that was all Oswald’s paranoia speaking. Yet, it was Oswald’s paranoia that kept him alive all this time, so Oswald was willing to listen to it.  

 

After their last conversation Oswald assumed Edward would not return for their talks which was why he was very surprised when Edward showed up at his door, after a rather consistent knocking. 

 

“May we speak, please?” Ed asked. There was an air of worry about him that he was trying to suppress. 

 

Oswald hesitated. He had made up his mind to keep away from the human, to distance himself emotionally both from him and the pleasant feeling of truly enjoying someone’s company. Yet he also wanted to see what the men was here for. Eventually his curiosity won this short internal battle and he nodded, stepping away in order to make room for Edward to enter then closing the door behind them.

 

Without waiting for further invitation Edward settled in that same chair in front of the fireplace that Oswald learned to think of as Edward’s. He then gazed expectantly at the King, waiting for him to join. After a moment Oswald waddled and assumed his own place by the fireplace. Silence settled between them for a long moment, both giving the other a chance to start the conversation. Edward’s eyes were fixed on Oswald as if he were studying him all over again but there was no curiosity in them this time. Instead, something else protruded in those soft brown eyes, something Oswald couldn’t yet pin. 

 

The Penguin swallowed. Much as he hated to admit it, he was glad to see Edward again and that feeling was too confusing to handle at the moment. 

 

Edward pulled him out of his small anxiety when he finally spoke, “I have a question, and I need you to reply honestly.”

 

Oswald gave a small nod. “Ask away,” he said. 

 

Edward looked very serious, stern even. “Are you the Penguin King?” 

 

Oswald froze at the words. That was unexpected. He shifted in his armchair a little awkwardly as if he couldn’t find any comfort in it anymore. “Why ask me this now? It’s been days. We’ve been talking for days, why is it suddenly important now?” 

 

“Answer to me, please,” Edward insisted calmly and repeated his question. “Are you the Penguin King?” 

 

Oswald narrowed his eyes. Edward looked quite honest in his inquiry. There was no sign of pretence. So he hadn’t known when they first met. Perhaps it was all genuine after all. 

 

Oswald swallowed. Their eyes met in a heated gaze and then the King nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. 

 

The human let out a small quiet gasp. “You lied to me,” he whispered, trying to wrap his head around the new information. 

 

Oswald was suddenly filled with anger and frustration that he had no idea where to channel. “I never said I wasn’t the King,” he said hastily, surprised that he even felt the need to explain himself. “You asked me if I were the housekeeper and I said yes because I do indeed consider myself to be that. I take care of this castle, I run it, I’m its housekeeper and caretaker, just like I am with all of Gotham.” 

 

“That’s  _ clearly  _ not what I meant!” Edward exclaimed, nearly forgetting himself in his fury. “I thought you were actually-- Ugh!” He groaned in frustration. 

 

Penguin laced his fingers together and crossed his legs. A defensive position. “Why are you  _ really  _ upset, Edward?” he asked, voice calm again. “We were getting along well, weren’t we?” 

 

“Before I realized who you were! Before I mentioned magic! Then you got mad and turned against me.” 

 

“What difference does it make? We were meant to meet, that’s why I invited you here. Or did you have something else planned for me? For the Penguin King?” He tilted his head curiously. “Would you not have spoken so openly with me had you known the truth? What would you have done if you knew it was me from the start? Kill me? Do what Barbara’s been training you for?” 

 

Ed shook his head. “I wasn’t--” 

 

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” the King hissed. The calm was gone now, instead he was like boiling lava. “This is  _ my  _ home. I know  _ everything _ that goes on in it. You really think I don’t know what Barbara’s been up to behind my back? I have information you cannot even fathom.” 

 

Edward felt a shiver down his spine. Now  _ that  _ was the King he expected to see. The man that took over Gotham, accumulated unimaginable power and magic, the man who could make everyone bend to his will. Energetic, passionate,  _ burning _ . 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me then? Who did you hide who you were,” Ed asked boldly, overcome with strange energy. “Did you get tired of being yourself? Did you need the escape?” 

 

Penguin’s eyes were aflame again as he inhaled sharply, hands clutching tightly at the armrests of his chair. “I have no intention of discussing my reasons, Mr. Nygma.” 

 

“But I already know the answer, Mr. Penguin.” 

 

The King’s lips were a tight angry line. “Don’t assume you know me,” he warned. “Not yet. But you will. Soon. However, it will be on  _ my  _ terms, not yours and definitely not Barbara’s.” 

 

Edward frowned. “What do you mean by--” 

 

“Don’t be late for dinner tonight.” With that Edward was dismissed. 

 

~*~ 

 

Edward was dizzy for the rest of the day. All the sudden he felt something change inside him and he didn’t know what to do about it. Or if he even needed to do anything at all. He counted the seconds until dinner time with unusual impatience. He was dying to see what the Penguin King had prepared for him, yet at the same time he dreaded it. This was the moment of truth! Would the King kill him? Would he torture him? Would he want to negotiate with him? What was his plan tonight? Instead of answering those questions though Edward’s mind was playing tricks on him, making him wonder what the  _ real  _ king was like. Was the Housekeeper just a mask Penguin used to play with Ed, or was the goblin genuine with him during those first interactions? Whatever the case Edward had to wait for dinner to discover the King’s intentions. 

 

When the time finally arrived, Edward watched in awe as the King appeared in all his glory at the top of the stairs of the grand dining hall. He looked different somehow. It wasn’t just his clothes -- wonderfully elegant and stylish -- but also his entire containance, so different from the honest manner of the Housekeeper Ed had come to know. Once again Ed wondered which was reality and which a mask. 

 

Everyone bowed down to the King, silence falling over the Grand Hall at his very presence. They all hated him, Edward knew that. At least most of them. But they also all feared him. He was powerful, dangerous, no one dared cross him. Not like Ed who kept getting kicked, rejected, mocked and hurt all his life. Penguin knew how to gain people’s respect. Or at least their obedience. Edward couldn’t help but feel a thrill at that thought. It would be pity indeed if the King decided to end Edward tonight. It would’ve been really educational to observe Penguin more, to learn from him. 

 

His Majesty the King of Gotham waited a moment, giving everyone a sharp glare, and then slowly descended the stairs. He was waddling again, his limp rather more pronounced tonight. Perhaps he had tired his leg badly. Perhaps it was hurting him. Edward couldn’t know. The King wouldn’t show a sign of pain. He walked towards the head of the table, assuming his place as he spoke in a loud and clear voice. The whole performance was a little too theatrical but Edward loved it. He thought it brilliant. Grandeur was good. Grandeur left strong impression. 

 

“Ladies, gentlemen, others,” he said, “my guests, I welcome you. I can tell you’re concerned, wondering why I called you here after all those decades of solitude. Perhaps you’re expecting me to give an explanation. But I won’t. What I need you to remember is that we’re all Gothamites. We’re all in this together. And we’re all under one rule. My rule,” he smiled again, “So enjoy it! Tonight you feast. Tomorrow, you’re all free to go back to your lands.”  

 

Edward sensed the instant surprise among the guests. Clearly, they did not expect to be released so soon from the King’s Castle. Or ever… 

 

Penguin’s eyes met Edward’s. He felt his breath hitch at their intensity. 

 

“However, the presence of  _ some  _ of you will be required for a longer period of time,” he continued, watching Edward the entire time. “Those lucky chosen few shall remain in the Iceberg Castle as my guests.  _ Indefinitely _ .” 

 

Edward swallowed around the lump in his throat. Did he mean…? Did Penguin just informed him that he wasn’t going to let him leave the castle? Was Edward the lucky person whom the King chose to stay here? It was supposed to be an honor but Ed recognized it for what it truly was. A prison. And Edward was the prisoner.  


	8. Chapter VIII: The Special Guest of the Gilded Cage

It was clear to Edward what was expected of him the next day. He had to stay behind, watch everyone else leave the castle grounds while he himself remained constricted there for… nobody really knew how long. Edward had suddenly become the King’s special guest, which was technically a more fancy term for  _ prisoner _ . He was not allowed to leave, he was being constantly watched (in one way or another), living in a gilded cage with his new master -- the King. Ed preferred to look at his new situation as an opportunity. A chance to get close to the King, learn his weaknesses, or at least snoop around the Castle and discover secrets, chambers holding forgotten old magic, or something equally exciting and helpful. Barbara, however, was not so optimistic about this situation. 

 

“We cannot stay with you,” Barbara said grimly the night before her departure. “Tomorrow at the break of dawn all guests of the King are leaving the Castle. All except you. You have to be very careful,” she warned. The stress from these past few days was written on her face despite her efforts to conceal it. 

 

“Of course!” Edward promised. “I’ll be very careful. I always am.” 

 

Barbara did not seem convinced. “He’s dangerous, Edward.” 

 

“I imagine he would be, he’s the King,” Edward chuckled. “But I’m not afraid of him, Barbara. I’m  _ curious  _ about him.” 

 

“You’re underestimating him. Don’t do this. That’s how he got everybody fooled the first time.”  

 

“I know. I’ll be alright, don’t worry. Your plan is in good hands.” To prove his point he smiled wider, hoping it would put Barbara’s concerns to rest. It did not. 

 

“I really hope I’ll see you again, Edward,” she sighed, giving his hand a little squeeze. “I wish I could take you back with me.” 

 

Ed was rather confused at this remark. Was Barbara really so certain that Edward would  _ die  _ during his stay in the Castle? Or did she suspect he’d betray her? That Penguin would somehow force him to turn against her and the elves? Her overreaction was beginning to irritate him. 

 

“Look, this isn’t Beauty and the Beast, Barbara. I’m not some damsel in distress. I’ll be fine. And I’m on your side. Okay?” He reassured just in case. 

 

“Beauty and the Beast? What are you talking about?” Barbara sighed with an eye roll. “Edward, this isn’t a game. This is important. While you’re here, be extra careful. Don’t tell him  _ anything  _ about us. Make sure you stay on his good side. And if you’re going to snoop around, at least try to find your way to the Book. We need to set  _ him  _ free.” 

 

Ed knew well who Barbara meant by  _ him _ . The Jester. The dangerous force of chaos that by some miracle was once contained, the little imp that Barbara now wanted to release upon Gotham once again. All in order to defeat the Penguin King. Ed wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good plan. Swapping one evil with another? Was it safe? Or even  _ sane _ ? Before letting the Jester out of his cage Edward had to feel very confident in his own skills as the Riddler and masterful of the magic of the Riddle Book so that he could contain the Jester once his usefulness expired. With a mischievous imp like that they definitely needed a failsafe. 

 

Edward knew Barbara was not too keen on hearing his thoughts on that matter so instead he just nodded. “It’ll be alright.” 

 

She did not seem convinced but there really wasn’t much time for that. It was getting late and they had to sleep at least for a few hours before the big day tomorrow. Everything was prepared for their departure in admirable expediency. 

 

The next day Edward was outside, breathing in the cool Autumn air and watching as the other guests left the Castle. A strange feeling of emptiness settled in his chest as he realized that he was to be alone here for the most part. Before he could dwell deeper on that thought he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. It startled him. 

 

The man before him chuckled at Edward’s reaction. “Good to finally see another human around here,” he said. His eyes were so very blue and that was the first thing Ed noticed about him before realizing he was approached by Jim Gordon. “Be careful, okay?” Jim Gordon continued, now looking very serious. “Don’t trust Barbara. Don’t trust Penguin. They all have their own agendas. Don’t let them play with your mind. Just a friendly advice. It wasn’t that long ago when I was here, in this very castle, by  _ his  _ side. Trust me. Things are not what they appear.” 

 

“Not long ago?” Edward repeated, not sure how to react to what seemed to be either a warning or a genuine friendly tip. 

 

“By Gotham standards,” Gordon said with a wink. “It was more than a hundred years ago.” 

 

Edward’s eyes went wide. The human before him looked no older than 30. How could he have lived for more than a hundred years? 

 

Jim Gordon seemed amused by the look on Ed’s face. He gave him another friendly tap on the shoulder and left with the centaurs, leaving Edward standing confused at the top of the stairs in front of the Castle. 

 

“What did he want?” Tabitha asked, appearing from behind.  

 

“He-- he was telling me a riddle,” Edward replied absentmindedly, gazing after the human. 

 

Barbara and Tabitha stayed with him for as long as they could but eventually they too had to go. Ed said his goodbyes and that was that. He was alone in the Penguin King’s Castle. 

 

Despite Barbara’s worries, Edward did not feel endangered in the Castle, and that was not out of naivety but rather rested on solid logic. The King was no real threat to him, at least not the way Edward saw it. Had murdering Ed been the King’s goal he would’ve done it already. There were certainly many opportunities to end the human but Penguin took none of them. Therefore, killing Ed was not the aim here. There was something else the King wanted with him. Perhaps a desire to get to know him better, see what he knows and maybe bring him to his side? Especially if Penguin knew Edward was the Riddler, then maybe he, too, just like Barbara, needed his powers? No wonder Barbara was concerned. 

 

~*~ 

 

When the last of the guests were gone Edward returned back inside the Castle. He stood in the center of the grand hall and looked around. It felt enormously big and empty now that there was only Ed in it. 

 

“Hellooooo!” Ed yelled just to hear his own voice echoing throughout the empty halls of the Castle. “I’m aloooone!” 

 

_ “Alone alone alone,”  _ the echo repeated. It was ridiculous. As if he were shouting into the Grand Canyon, or a cave, or something. Despite its grandeur the Castle seemed kind of creepy now. 

 

Ed sighed, shoulders slumped. What was he to do? Was the King watching him at this moment? Was Ed to go looking for him? Was he free to walk about the Castle? 

 

“Are you always this loud? Or do you just like the attention?” The King asked from behind him. 

 

Ed turned around quickly to see Penguin at the top of the stairs again, looking down at him. Was this some way of establishing regal superiority? To be observed from below at as if he were some kind of a deity? Did they even need all that, considering the way they met? 

 

“I  _ love  _ the attention,” Edward replied, tilting his head a little so that he could see the King and yet not  _ look up  _ at him. “Do you always sneak up on people and spy on them or am I special?” 

 

The King chuckled. “With my limp? It’s not very subtle, they can hear me coming from a mile.” 

 

Ed shook his head with a teasing smile. “You could be using other means for all I know.” 

 

“Oh? And what means are those? Spies?” Penguin asked intrigued. 

 

“That,” Ed nodded, “or magic.” 

 

Penguin’s face visibly changed. It was not amused anymore. “Why that word again? What is this fixation of yours on magic?” 

 

“What is this fear of yours of discussing magic?” 

 

Penguin took a sharp breath. “You’ll be spending a  _ long _ time here, Edward Nygma. I suggest you don’t make it an unpleasant stay,” he warned, lips pursed into a tight line, the words nearly hissed at Ed.

 

“Don’t expect me to be your lap dog, Mr. Penguin,” Edward warned. 

 

Penguin’s fingers were clutching his cane furiously, his injured leg was all jittery like he wanted to charge at Ed and tear him apart limb from limb. “It’s  _ king  _ Penguin.” 

 

Edward smirked, sizing him up with his eyes. “Is it?” He said calmly. 

 

Penguin sucked in an angry breath and took a few steps down the stairs to get closer to Edward. It was just what Edward wanted, to get the King down from his high horse, distort this new dynamic he was trying to force on them with reminders of his regality. 

 

“Don’t make me angry, boy! Trust me, you don’t want that!” Penguin warned, limping down the stairs furiously, his cane tapping on each step. “I’ve been patient with you, I welcomed you to my home, spoke to you like a-- like a  _ friend _ . Don’t throw that away.” 

 

Edward said nothing, waiting for the King to descend the stairs completely before he replied to the threat. “I know what others see when they look at you,  _ King _ Penguin,” he said not losing his calm. “Aren’t you curious to know what _ I _ see in you?” 

 

Penguin swallowed, lips pursed into a tight line. He was now face to face with Edward. He was much shorter than Ed too, so the height difference was forcing him to look up. Yet even in this position he managed to look threatening and Edward was in awe of that. A small thing like the Penguin King -- for he was hardly a tall man -- still managed to look up at someone and appear in total control. It was quite impressive. That right there was the regality, not the little trick of looking down at Ed from the top of the stairs. Penguin right there, in your face, staring up at you with his crazy shining blue-greenish eyes was more dangerous and intimidating than the King shining like a sun above you. It was  _ thrilling _ . 

 

Edward smiled. 

 

Seeing that smile the King relaxed, his features mellowing as if he had suddenly realized that Ed’s true goal was not to infuriate him but to get him at eye level. Penguin smiled in return. “So this is our new game then, is it?” he asked and then nodded his head. “Okay. I can play that. It might even be fun.” 

 

Edward nodded as well, the smile not disappearing from his face. He wasn’t afraid of the goblin, he was enchanted by him, curious to know more about him, about his behavior and his power. A game, Penguin had called it. Perhaps it was a game, even though Edward preferred to think of it more as a puzzle to be solved. Fun? Oh, it was  _ definitely  _ going to be  _ fun _ !  

 

~*~  

 

The first few days of Edward’s stay in the Castle were relatively calm and uneventful. After their confrontation at the stairs the King hadn’t really showed up much. Edward ate breakfast, lunch and dinner alone. There was a servant/cook -- Olga, according to her nametag -- who stubbornly remained silent while serving his meals no matter how hard Ed tried to coerce her into talking to him. It was almost like she didn’t understand him. Eventually Edward gave up. The King obviously wanted him to be cut off from all communication because there was  _ literally  _ no one Ed could talk to. It was getting a little unnerving for him, he was not quite sure what to expect next. No doubt this was some kind of a battle of nerves again. Barbara did mention the King was fond of those. Jim Gordon, too, had warned Ed to be careful and distrustful.  _ Things were not what they appeared _ , he had said. The words echoed in Ed’s mind, making him wonder what was Jim Gordon’s own personal experience that led him to believe that. 

 

Finally Edward decided it was time to snoop around. He was still quite convinced that the King was watching him from  _ somewhere _ so before he left his room he spoke loudly and theatrically like an actor would on stage, “Just so you know, Mr. Penguin King, I’m off to investigate your Iceberg Castle. I expected you to be the one showing it to me but I understand you’re too busy ruling your empire. No worries though. I can do it myself.” 

 

That said he bowed down comically and strode out of his chambers. No one stopped him. No one appeared out of thin air. Nothing happened. As if no one even paid attention to his little performance. 

 

So far Ed had only explored the library -- it was  _ huge  _ and  _ gorgeous _ and Ed was very impressed with it. The Beauty and the Beast parallels were popping back into his head but he pushed them away. It was silly to compare his situation to a fairy tale. Things were very different here. The Penguin King was no cursed prince and Edward was hardly the book-loving beauty. He walked past the library, heading for the dungeons below the castle instead. They seemed damp and dark enough to hold secrets and Ed sincerely hoped to discover them. On his way down the curved stone staircase he faintly wondered if there would be any prisoners locked up downstairs, or if something dreadfully horrific would be lurking beneath the Castle. He was disappointed, however. The dungeons were plain and empty, with only the sounds of Edward’s boots as the sole accompaniment to his little expedition. 

 

“I don’t keep my secrets in the dungeons, Edward. I’m not that careless,” the King surprised him once again. 

 

Edward bit his lower lip with a small self-satisfied grin. “So you decided to join me after all. I thought you were too busy for me.” 

 

“That’s not why I haven’t been around these last two days,” Penguin waved it off with irritation. 

 

“Why then? If not to test my patience?” 

 

Penguin observed him for a moment. He looked slightly puzzled. “You were really this impatient to spend time with me?” 

 

“Why are you so surprised by that?” Edward asked. “I meant what I said to the Housekeeper. I truly enjoyed your company back then.” 

 

Penguin waddled around Ed, not looking at him anymore. “You weren’t only using that poor Housekeeper to gain information?” he inquired with the air of a man who could not be easily fooled. 

 

“I didn’t even know it was you. I hoped to learn about the Castle and its master, yes, but I also enjoyed the company of the man I met there,” Edward made the expression of his face look a little forlorn. “I wish I could see him again.” 

 

Penguin’s piercing eyes were instantly back on Ed. “You  _ are  _ seeing him. He’s right in front of you.” 

 

Ed shook his head sadly. “I don’t know that for sure.  _ He  _ didn’t avoid me like you do.” 

 

The King sighed. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Edward, I was-- There was something I had to do. A small journey that usually takes two days.” 

 

“A journey?” Edward didn’t bother to hide his curiously. He didn’t think the King ever left the Castle. At least not without making a big fuss about it all around Gotham and scaring everyone. According to Barbara he was a reclusive man that hardly ever went out, yet here he was making secret two-day  _ ‘journeys’  _ without anyone’s knowledge. How long had that been going on? “A journey where?” 

 

“It’s not important to you. What matters is that I’m here now,” the King explained calmly. “So abandon those ridiculous plots of yours and tell me what it is you’re looking for down here. There’s no need for secrets. We can speak plainly to one another.” 

 

Edward hesitated. He had learned from his mistakes. It was too early in their relationship to outright ask about magic again. Things seemed to be going well between them for now, Ed didn’t want to ruin it so soon. So he decided to go for the other topic he had on his mind. 

 

“I’m not sure how to broach the subject. It’s rather delicate,” he said. 

 

“Alright. Then perhaps we could take this to a more comfortable place than… the dungeons?” Penguin suggested and Edward had to agree. The air here wasn’t doing his lungs any good. 

 

They went up to the dining hall, waiting for Olga to set the table for lunch. They were going to eat together, alone, for the first time. The King assumed his usual position at the head of the table, while Edward took the chair next to him, trying not to think of it as something significant. It was only food, after all. It didn’t suddenly make them best friends. 

 

“So. Speak,” Penguin encouraged, propping his cane at the side of his chair and giving Edward his full attention.  

 

“Alright,” Ed nodded. “I want to talk about James Gordon,” he blurted out. 

 

Penguin visibly shuddered a little. It was an involuntary reaction, that much was clear. 

 

“I imagine it is a rather… sensitive matter,” Ed elaborated carefully, “but he is human, like me. It’s only natural I’m curious about him.” 

 

“What do you want to know about James Gordon?” the King asked, keeping his voice even and his face unreadable.

 

According to what Barbara told Ed, James Gordon used to be on the King’s side, according to what Barbara had told Ed. He had then betrayed the King, and turned against him, yet he was still alive. It didn’t make sense. Why would the King spare a traitor’s life? There was obviously some kind of history there and Edward was eager to uncover it. 

 

“I don’t mean to be intrusive,” Ed continued, not sure how far the King would let him go. “I’ve only heard a little bit about him. Lady Barbara didn’t like talking about him.” 

 

The King snorted. “I’m not surprised! She was desperately in love with him. When he broke up with her she kidnapped him, tied him up to a chair and wanted to force him into marrying her… It was insane.” 

 

Ed’s eyes went wide. That wasn’t how Barbara told the story. “I-- I had no idea…” he said. 

 

Penguin looked genuinely amused at Ed’s reaction. “I wouldn’t expect Barbara to advertise the story, no. But that was a private matter. I don’t judge her for it,” he furrowed his brows thoughtfully and uttered more quietly. “We… we do strange things when we’re in love.”  

 

Ed shrugged. “I suppose. I wouldn’t know.” 

 

Penguin looked up at him with interest. “You mean, you’ve never been in love?” 

 

Ed chuckled. “Is this so surprising?” 

 

“I just assumed that you’ve known love…” 

 

“Have you known love?”  

 

For a second the King was taken aback by the unexpected question. He looked like he didn’t know what to reply, his lips parting as if he were about to speak, yet no sound coming out. “No. Never,” he finally said firmly. 

 

“So we’re alike,” Ed grinned, not really understanding the sudden weird vibe coming from the King but still pleased that he had his attention. “So, about James Gordon.” 

 

“Hmm?” 

 

“I saw him for the first time the other day, at dinner.” 

 

“Okay. So?” 

 

How old is he?” Ed asked without further delay. 

 

Penguin shrugged. “How should I know? What do I care?”  

 

“He looks young. Quite handsome too,” Ed said.

 

Penguin swallowed. “Where are you going with this?” 

 

“Jim Gordon looks not a day over 30 yet he mentioned being in Gotham for over a hundred years. Was he pulling my leg or is that the truth?” 

 

“I-- I don’t really--” Penguin stuttered slightly. “Why are we discussing this?” 

 

“Because I need to know if staying in Gotham would have the same effect on me,” Ed blurted out excitedly. 

 

“Pardon?” 

 

“Gordon is a normal human, like me. He stayed in Gotham all this time and now it seems he has somehow gained eternal youth. I want to know if the same thing would happen to me if I stay in Gotham. Does this realm slow down aging in humans? Or help human cells regenerate faster, giving us a supernatural lifespan? Can I be… immortal… here?” He couldn’t help the little tremble of excitement that slipped into his voice. The mere thought of being immortal and eternally young was too good to be true. “Well?” he urged the King when he realized he was getting no answer. “Does Gotham give humans immortality and eternal youth?” 

 

Penguin shook his head, avoiding Ed’s gaze. “Not that I know of, Edward, no,” he said. 

 

Edward frowned disappointed. “Then I don’t understand. How is Gordon alive for so long then?” 

 

“I-- I don’t know,” Penguin shrugged. 

 

“Was it the same with the last king? Carmine Falcone? How old was he when he died?” Edward persisted. 

 

The King glared dangerously. “You seem very well informed about Gotham’s history, Edward,” he remarked. 

 

“I try,” Ed smiled, taking it as a compliment, despite the obvious signs of it being the opposite. “I did tell you my curiosity is enormous.” 

 

“So you did,” Penguin muttered, clearly not sharing Ed’s enthusiasm. 

 

“So can you tell me? About Gordon and Falcone?” Ed insisted. 

 

“No.” 

 

“But I thought--” 

 

“I’m in no mood of discussing Carmine Falcone or James Gordon!” the King snapped. 

 

“Then why am I here? In this castle? Hmm? We have to talk about something, right? You said I could talk about any topic I find interesting. I find this interesting,” Ed explained with feeling. “They were human. Like me. I need to know what Gotham does to humans. Don’t I deserve to know that? It affects me personally.” 

 

“Gotham has nothing to do with it. This place has no magical effects on humans whatsoever.” 

 

“Then what happened to Gordon?” 

 

“I’m warning you, Edward. Stop asking about Gordon.” 

 

“Why? What are you hiding?” 

 

“This is  _ not  _ how our time together will go, Nygma. I’m leaving!” the King blurted out and with a few jerky movements he grabbed his cane into the tight grip of his hand, sprang up from his chair and limped away. 

 

“But…” Edward tried to protest but the King was already gone. 

 

Olga showed up with the food cart to only stare at a very confused Edward. “I guess no lunch today, Olga,” he sighed, slowly heading back to his room. 

 

Olga only shrugged unbothered and returned the food to the kitchen. 


	9. Chapter IX: Penguin’s Heart

_ Back to the day the guests arrived in the Iceberg Castle…  _

 

There he was. James Gordon. The human who came to Gotham and turned everything upside down. Oswald watched him from his window, well-hidden behind the thick curtains. Even now, after all these years, he felt his breath hitch at the sight of that man. Not because there were any feelings of love left in his heart, no. But because the wounds Jim left there were still unhealed. It all felt fresh even now. Oswald knew it was time to move on from what happened with Gordon yet it was easier said than done. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the man, to hear his voice again, to talk to him. He wished he were strong enough, or at least appear strong enough, but he feared he wasn’t. The last time he met Jim it was to-- Oswald pushed the memories to the back of his mind, desperately hoping he’d manage to conceal his sorrow from his guests. He had a reputation to keep as the dangerous and powerful King of Gotham. Power, fear, respect, that was all he had, all he needed. Love, peace, kindness, friendship, those were things he could never have. It’s been this way his entire life. Today was no different. 

 

Suddenly Jim Gordon looked up at Penguin’s windows. As if burnt, Oswald quickly jumped a step back, letting the curtains fall and conceal him from sight once again. His heart was beating insanely fast as if he were caught in the act. He hoped Gordon hadn’t noticed him looking. He glanced down at his hands and noticed they were shaking a little. It was ridiculous how affected he was by something as simple as having Gordon in his Castle again. No, Oswald wasn’t ready to face Jim yet. It was out of the question. So he decided to stay put in his chambers a little longer. At least until he felt safe and calm enough to be seen. He wasn’t obligated to show himself to his guests just yet. He was the king. He could take all the time he wanted and they’d probably consider it an intimidation technique instead of seeing it as the weakness it truly was. 

 

The decision was already made and Oswald spent the rest of the day in his chambers. However, his time there wasn’t as productive as he hoped. Instead of doing some work or reading old memories of Jim kept flooding his mind. The way Jim used to look at him, every line of his face, the scent of his skin, the touch of his hands, his smile, that funny face he made whenever he was amused by something. All sorts of tiny details that meant the world to Oswald back then. They meant a lot still. The memories kept coming, attacking him relentlessly. It was verging on obsession and Oswald didn’t like it one bit. The pain hit him anew and he felt devastated. He needed a distraction, or a friend. But the only true friend he had these days was too far away from Gotham. Oswald himself had arranged for that in order to keep him safe because his safety was what mattered the most. Besides, anxieties about Jim Gordon were not something Oswald wanted to discuss with his friend. It was all too complicated. So he sucked in a deep breath and decided to keep an eye on the new human instead. Maybe he could be the distraction Oswald needed. 

 

~*~  

 

_ “You look beautiful,” Jim smiled, looking at him with eyes full of admiration. Oswald couldn’t believe anyone could  _ **_ever_ ** _ look at  _ **_him_ ** _ like  _ **_that_ ** _. He blushed and heard a nervous little laugh escape his lips. He wanted to say something, knew he had to say something, but he was in no condition to speak. Jim seemed to find it amusing. He chuckled and reached up to remove a lock of black hair from Oswald’s forehead. “I love your eyes,” the human continued, his voice so warm, so loving, Oswald could die a happy goblin just listening to it. “And your lips. … I love you, Os.”  _

 

_ Oswald’s blue-greenish eyes looked up to meet Jim’s clear blue ones and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Suddenly nothing else mattered anymore. It was just the two of them suspended in time. Nothing else existed around them, it was only Oswald and Jim, gazing into each other’s eyes, confessing their feelings for one another for the very first time.  _

 

_ “I love you too,” Oswald managed to say, softly, voice a mere whisper.  _

 

_ Jim slowly leaned in, waiting a moment as if giving Oswald time to react, to pull away if he wanted to. Oswald didn’t move. He only held his breath and watched as Jim finally closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. It was unbelievable that this would happen for real! Oswald was a goblin despised by everyone. The only affection he ever received came from his mother back when she was still alive. No one else ever cared about him in his entire long life. And now suddenly out of nowhere this wonderful noble human would come and love him, for no reason, just like that. It was fantastical and so amazing, it must’ve been what true magic felt like.   _

 

_ As Oswald kissed back, inexperienced and nervous as he was, Jim inhaled sharply as if wanting to breathe in the goblin, to memorize his scent. His arms wrapped around Oswald’s waist, bringing the two of them even closer together and Oswald melted into that trustworthy embrace.  _

 

_ They went on kissing for what felt like a small eternity. Oswald didn’t want it to end. He was sure this moment would remain commemorated in his memory as one of the happiest he’d ever been. Little did he know that remembering this very moment would break his heart a little every time he thought of it later on in his life.  _

 

~*~  

 

People expected the King to have a special agenda when he invited guests to the Iceberg Castle for the first time in ages. And they were right to assume so. Oswald did really have a plan. Only it was a rather different plan from what others thought. They expected interrogations, executions even, something to install more fear in the hearts of his subjects. Instead they got a bunch of delicious meals and luxurious rooms at the castle. It was most peculiar. Oswald knew about their surprise but he couldn’t be bothered with it at the moment. His true goal was to meet the new human and pull him out of Barbara Kean’s clutches. What he didn’t expect was to actually start enjoying said human’s company. He had to keep him close, that much was certain. Not only to get to know him better but also to keep him from cavorting with Penguin’s enemies. Who knew what ways to use the human against the King Barbara or the likes of her would come up with! Oswald had to be prepared. He had to stop those vicious plans before they were even conceived. 

 

That evening he announced everyone but Edward were free to leave the Castle, and he waited. If Barbara really was plotting against him her reaction to the news would somehow betray that. It was only a matter of time and as it seemed Oswald didn’t have to wait long. Less than quarter of an hour later Barbara was insisting on a private audience with the King. 

 

“I know what you’re doing,” she said after a particularly shallow curtsy. 

 

Oswald ignored the obvious disrespect and smiled sweetly instead. He didn’t want to give Barbara the satisfaction of annoying him. “Why, Miss Kean, whatever are you talking about?” 

 

“You can’t keep the new human here,  _ I _ found him first!” she exclaimed in frustration. “He’s mine.” 

 

Oswald tilted his head. “Oh? And what do you need him for?” 

 

For a moment Barbara was stunned, not sure what to say. Then she placed her hands on her hips in a seemingly confident way whereas in fact it was more a defensive reaction than anything else. “It’s not relevant,” she said. “I like that he’s tall.” 

 

The King chuckled amused. “My dear Miss Kean, although you seem to have a  _ kink  _ for  _ humans _ , we both know _ Edward Nygma _ is  _ not  _ your type.” 

 

It was a jab at her failed relationship with Jim Gordon. Many in Gotham still remembered what she tried to do, how she tried to force the man to marry her. The remark hit a nerve, just like Oswald expected. He ignored the fact that mentioning Gordon also hurt him too. However, his personal feelings were not important at the moment. 

 

Barbara Kean pursed her lips, looking furious but unable to act on it. Her hands were trembling like she wanted to throw something at Penguin, or maybe stab him, yet she didn't move. She had to restrain herself or risk being thrown to rot in the dungeons. And that would be the best case scenario in case she openly attacks the King. She cold also end up dead. She needed to be clever and sneaky in her approach, there was no other way to outfox Penguin. So she cleared her throat and tried to regain her poise. 

 

“Since you brought up Gordon into this conversation,” she said, taking the bulls by the horns, “I have to ask. Why do the centaurs have a human amongst them but I and my people can’t have one of our own? Where’s the equality in that? Why the double standard? You let them keep Gordon but you take our Edward away from us?” 

 

Oswald’s face remained unreadable and still. He observed her carefully for a long moment until his penetrative gaze and his ominous silence began to unnerve her. Slowly he watched her cringe and back off. 

 

“I trust your good judgement, Your Majesty,” she finally uttered even if that was clearly the last thing she wanted to say to him. “I understand you’re the King and ruler of Gotham. I respect that. I was out of line suggesting that there was anything but wisdom in your actions.” 

 

“Yet you kept the new human from me. Gordon openly choose where to remain, there was never any secrecy or deceit in his actions. You, on the other hand, found Nygma and hid him from me, kept him all to yourself,  _ in secret _ ,” Oswald reminded. “You  _ do  _ understand where you went wrong. Don’t you, Barbara?” 

 

Barbara could not object to the rightful accusation. Concealing something as important as the arrival of a new human in Gotham was against the law. She could literally get in trouble for that. It was a strange mercy that the King hadn’t brought it up yet, hadn’t insisted upon her arrest. 

 

“I only did that because I wanted to gain his trust,” she said. “And I was getting somewhere with him, he was beginning to trust me! … Please, let him return to the elven city with me. I can make good use of him  _ for you _ .” 

 

“That’s admirable. But no.” 

 

Barbara’s features hardened. Slowly the resolution and pride were back in her voice as she straightened up her back and spoke again. “I would’ve demanded for you to reconsider your decision, Your Majesty, but I hold no ill will against you. Unlike what you delude yourself into believing, I don’t have an ulterior motive to keep the new human to myself. So I will not object any further. I surrender to your will. Because I  _ am  _ loyal to my King.” She bowed down again, this time more convincingly than at the beginning of their conversation. 

 

“I will keep that in mind, Miss Kean,” Penguin said and dismissed her. 

 

She thought she could have him fooled but the King was no fool. He knew he couldn’t trust a word Barbara Kean was saying. She was at the top of list of people he suspected of plotting against him. She was a formidable foe, despite her sweet talk of loyalty, and Oswald knew not to underestimate her. Now more than ever he was certain that there was another reason Barbara wanted the human for herself. There was  _ something special  _ about Edward Nygma that she needed and Oswald was going to find out what that was. 

 

~*~  

 

The next day the King watched his guests leave. It was a relief to finally have them gone from his Castle. With them around he had to be constantly alert not to get poisoned. None of these Gothamites wished him any good and he knew that well. There were countless attempts on his life anyway so why make it easier for his foes by giving them free access to him? 

 

He was lost in his thoughts when he heard someone calling for him. “Your Majesty? Your Majesty, may I speak with you?” 

 

Oswald froze. The voice of the person attracting his attention was painfully familiar yet so different from what Oswald remembered. He looked around desperately, craving the protective solitude of his own rooms instead of the castle hallways but there was no escape. All this time he managed to avoid James Gordon but now… He cursed under his breath. He knew coming down to see his guests out was a bad idea. 

 

Slowly he turned around and tried to appear confident as he greeted Jim. “James Gordon! I see you arrived with the centaurs. Admirable alliance.” 

 

“What the centaurs and I have isn’t just an alliance, Your Majesty. It’s friendship,” Jim said firmly. “I am one of them, they are my people.” 

 

Oswald was silent for a moment, overpowered by the honest manner in which Jim just said that. It was so much like what he used to sound like back when he was still on Oswald’s side. “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t expect otherwise from you,” he finally managed to say. 

 

Jim Gordon took a step closer and Oswald had to fight the impulse to run away. 

 

“Your Majesty, I’d like to take this opportunity of seeing you in person to discuss a certain matter with you,” Jim continued, oblivious to the King’s internal turmoil. “About the centaurs.” 

 

Oswald cleared his throat. “Of course. Do tell.” 

 

“I’d like to ask a favor.” 

 

Oswald suppressed a chuckle at that. Jim used to ask a lot of favors from him back in the day. “What would that favor be?” he asked instead. 

 

“One of my sisters has been captured on suspicions of treason. I assure you she’s innocent of the charges. Please, release her.” 

 

“By ‘your sister’ you mean one of the centaurs?” Oswald asked, arching an eyebrow. Jim nodded in confirmation. He looked a bit like a soldier at that moment. Oswald sighed. “So you came here to beg me to release one of your centaur friends?” 

 

“Yes,” Gordon nodded again. 

 

Oswald lifted his chin defiantly. “And you think I’d listen to you because…?”   

 

“Because I have faith that deep down you have a good sense of justice,” Gordon said without batting an eye. Oswald was a little surprised at the confidence. Then he was even more surprised when Gordon leaned in closer to whisper, “I have these strange dreams. They feel like memories,” the King froze. Gordon’s penetrating eyes were on him, the intense gaze making Oswald's heart beating faster. Jim proceeded, “These dreams, they’re not very distinct. I can’t quite understand them. But I know you were in them. And I can tell they were real once,” he gave the King another one of those stern looks and Oswald paled. “I know we used to understand each other quite well,  _ Your Majesty _ .” Oswald swallowed. Jim’s voice was a low growl now, “I don’t know what you did to me, Penguin, but I suspect you deleted my memories of you. I know I spent a while in the Castle with you before I went to Barbara. Time I have forgotten. Time  _ you  _ took from me. I can’t imagine why you’d do that but I suppose you had a good reason. I won’t ask. But I need you to free my friend Sarah Essen for me in return. As a show of good will. What do you say?” 

 

Jim’s eyes were still fixed on Oswald, relentless and insistent. There was no sign of the love and devotion Oswald remembered from before. He cleared his throat to be sure his voice didn’t crack embarrassingly when he replied. He needed to sound perfectly calm. “I have no explanation for your dreams, James Gordon,” he said. “I expect them to be a normal thing for humans. We all have dreams. Doesn’t mean they actually happened.” Jim was about to protest but Oswald raised his hand to stop him. “ _ However _ , your friendship with the centaurs touches me. I will show that good will, like you asked. Consider your friend -- Sarah Essen, was it? -- released.” He took a step away from Gordon, impatient to put more distance between them, then added with a hint of a warning, “Just make sure she really  _ stays  _ innocent. I won’t show mercy a second time.” That said, Oswald turned around to leave before his mask of calmness cracked completely. 

 

“Your Majesty?” Jim called after him. 

 

Oswald stopped but did not face the human. “Yes?” 

 

“... I’m very grateful for this. Thank you.” 

 

Oswald shut his eyes tightly and walked away. He didn’t want to listen to Jim’s gratitude. He rushed back to his room, ignoring everyone else on the way, and desperately trying to shut out Jim’s voice that sting rang in his head  _ “... I’m very grateful for this. Thank you.”  _ No. Oswald definitely did not want Jim Gordon’s gratitude.  

 

~*~  

 

_ “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, Oswald, but this can’t go on like this!” Jim insisted. “What you’re doing is wrong!”  _

 

_ “Are you telling me how to rule my own kingdom?” Oswald snapped. He didn’t appreciate Jim’s recent attempts at controlling Oswald when it came to ruling Gotham. Giving advice and opinion was one thing, but opposing Oswald like that, telling him what to do and what not to do, crossed a line. He was the King, damn it,  _ **_he_ ** _! Not Falcone! Not anyone else who tried to crawl their way up to the top.  _ **_Him_ ** _!  _ **_The Penguin_ ** _!  _

 

_ Jim looked at him with something too close to pity. “You’re going to lose the support of your subjects if you keep arresting everyone at the slightest suspicion of treason, Oswald. Fear is not the answer to power.”  _

 

_ “Of course it is!” Oswald cried out. His lips were trembling a little despite his efforts to stay calm. They’ve had this argument way too often these last few weeks. “They can’t make fun of me, Jim! I won’t let them!” He could feel his voice shaking but he was too upset to hide his feelings. His emotions laid bare before Jim. “They refuse to follow my laws, they openly oppose me, I can’t just let them get away with it. Don’t you get it? They’re questioning my authority!”  _

 

_ “Oswald… your empire is turning into a dictatorship,” Jim warned with concern.   _

 

_ Oswald swallowed, eyes blurry with tears. “So be it,” he said with a heavy heart. He knew Jim wouldn’t like to hear that from him but fear and respect have always been key to good management. There was no denying that.  _

 

_ Jim’s face turned very serious. He took a step away and Oswald wanted nothing more than to apologize for his outburst and pull Jim back into his arms, to hold him and never let go. But before he could, Jim spoke again.  _

 

_ “In that case, Oswald, I’m sorry but I cannot keep supporting you. I’m leaving.”  _

 

_ Oswald could only gape at him with unbelieving eyes. Did Jim actually say that!? It couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening. “Y-you’re abandoning me?” he asked, voice cracking by the end of the sentence.  _

 

_ Jim remained firm like a statue. “I can’t stay with you if you’re going down that path, Oswald. It’s not right.”   _

 

_ Oswald’s hands were shaking. “You knew me, Jim!” he cried out angrily. There were too many emotions raging inside him -- rage, sadness, devastation, heartbreak. Too much all at once. The words were desperate to come out as if that could alleviate the pain. “You knew what I was like when we-- when you and I-- when-- You  _ **_knew_ ** _ me!”  _

 

_ “Oswald, calm down,” Jim spread his hands towards Penguin like one would when trying to calm down a frightened animal. He was usually good at helping Oswald relax but he was failing this time. It was nearly impossible to get to Penguin when he was having one of his tantrums. “Breathe”  _

 

_ “You said you’d never leave! You said you were always gonna be there for me!”  _

 

_ “Oswald…”  _

 

_ “You knew what I was like and you said you loved me nevertheless!” Oswald went on, unable to stop yelling.  _

 

_ “Yeah, well I thought you’d change!” Jim blurted out loud enough for his voice to rise above Oswald’s. All the shouting and the arguments finally got his blood boil, his own hot headed nature refusing to stay silent.  _

 

_ He regretted his words the moment they were out. The heartbroken look on Oswald’s face nearly shook Jim. They were both silent. Oswald was just standing there helplessly, staring at Jim in search for something to say.  _

 

_ Finally Jim sucked in a deep breath to calm himself, then exhaled. The proverbial cat was out of the bag anyway, he might as well elaborate. “I thought you’d change, Oswald. But you’ll never change. You’ll always be the insecure little goblin who needs to assert his power through fear. And I cannot be a part of that anymore. I’m sorry.” Oswald was very quiet. As if a spell had silenced him all the sudden. It was strange to see him like this. Then again, Jim had seen so many sides of Penguin that others never even suspected about. Jim sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I never meant to hurt you, Oswald. I’m really sorry for that. I’m willing to make compromises in this relationship but there are certain things that cannot be compromised. You ruling over Gotham with an iron fist being one of them. It’s not right. It would create a corrupt land with several powerful few oppressing the masses. I cannot allow for that to happen. Gotham’s become my home too and I care.”  _

 

_ “Before I came to power, Jim, there was nothing but  _ **_chaos_ ** _ in Gotham. I’m giving Gotham order,” Oswald said. His voice was still trembling but Jim could tell he was trying hard to pull himself together.  _

 

_ “I know how much you love Gotham, Oswald. I’m sure you think you’re doing what’s best,” Jim replied sadly. “I even partly agree with the result you’re aiming for. But I don’t approve of your methods. And I think that’s standing between us. It’s no use ignoring it. It would eventually tear us apart.”  _

 

_ Jim headed for the door and Oswald couldn’t just let him walk away. “Jim, wait!” he called after him hastily.  _

 

_ Jim stopped and waited.  _

 

_ “W-where will you go?” It was the first thing that came to Oswald’s mind. He didn’t really have anything to say to Jim, he just wanted to make him stay longer.   _

_ “Barbara invited me to the elven city. I think I’m going to start from there,” Jim said.   _

 

_ “Barbara!?” Oswald broke again. “You’re joining  _ **_Barbara_ ** _!? After  _ **_everything_ ** _ I’ve done for you you’re leaving me  _ **_for her_ ** _!? She wants me  _ **_dead_ ** _ , Jim!”  _

 

_ “I don’t think she’d go that far, Oswald. She’s not deranged,” Jim rolled his eyes.  _

 

_ “You don’t know Barbara like I do. Whatever she told you, she’s using you to get to me. You can’t go to her!” Oswald pleaded, hands reaching out but not daring to touch.  _

 

_ “It’s my decision, Oswald,” Jim said firmly.   _

 

_ “It’s the  _ **_wrong_ ** _ decision,” Oswald insisted.  _

 

_ “Yet I’ve made up my mind. Are you going to respect that or are you going to arrest me?” Jim took a step closer as if saying ‘here I am, do your worst’.  _

 

_ Penguin was biting at his lips nervously. “At least-- at least have one last dinner with me before you leave?”    _

 

_ Jim furrowed his brows, considering the invitation, then nodded silently. He could understand this was very difficult for Oswald. Jim was the first person Oswald had opened up to since his mother’s death. The fact that Jim was leaving now, joining Oswald’s enemies, made things even worse. It left Oswald feel utterly defenseless. Barbara would no doubt use any known weakness of his against him and Jim was a great source of information, the perfect weapon. Oswald was stupid enough to even tell Jim his actual name. Now he regretted that moment of weakness. He shouldn’t have trusted the human. He thought what they felt for one another was true love but now it was backfiring on him. If Jim decided to divulge to Barbara all the intimacies he and Oswald had shared, she could crush the King in no time. Oswald couldn’t allow that. He knew Jim wouldn’t deny him his request. Jim hurt him badly but he wasn’t heartless. Oswald, on the other hand, had to be heartless. He had to make sure he was not left vulnerable and weak as well as heartbroken. So he took matters in his hands as cold bloodedly as he could under the circumstances. When Jim came to dinner that evening Oswald had a special potion prepared for him. A potion that would erase all of Jim’s memories from the last months they spent together. Their bonding, their friendship, their trust, their love. It would all disappear from Jim’s mind. When the potion did its thing Jim wouldn’t even remember Oswald’s name. Once again he’d just be the Penguin King to Jim, like he was to everybody else in Gotham. The thought of doing this to Jim, of losing him completely, was painful. But Oswald couldn’t risk it. He could not be weak again. Not now, not ever. It had to be done, so he did it. When the dinner was over Jim felt sleepy, he went to one of the guest rooms and when he woke up the next morning he had no memories of their love.  _


	10. Chapter X: Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for mentions of past trauma, nothing too graphic though considering that this is Gotham
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update! I'll try to work faster on the next chapters. I hope you enjoy! A huge thank you to everyone who read, love and comment on this story! It means so much to me!

Jim was beginning to remember things now? Lost memories manifesting as dreams was a possibility but Oswald had hoped it wouldn’t happen. At least not so soon. Or even if it did Jim wouldn’t pay attention to it. That was the point. If Jim was taking the dream-memories seriously then he could start poking around, looking for an explanation. What if he managed to find one? What if he figured out a way to properly regain  _ all _ his memories? Oswald couldn’t risk that! He couldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable before Jim again. One time was enough. He had to be more careful. Especially now when Jim was becoming suspicious. Oswald had to warn more of his men to keep an eye out for any magical objects, books, spells, anything. All magic had to be safely put away in the Castle where no one but Oswald could find it or use it. Without magic Jim wouldn’t be able to completely remember anything beyond a few weird dreams. And a few weird dreams never hurt anybody. 

 

~*~

 

He was back home, headed for the library. Miss Kringle greeted him as usual. She was a nice old lady, Edward liked her. But why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be… someplace else? His feet continued walking and he followed them. What a strange thing! He was following his feet. As if he wasn’t the one telling them where to go. They just went and he had no other option but to follow. The cars, the noise, the people, hustling and bustling, pushing each other without care… Edward tried to remember why was he here. He coughed, the air burning his lungs. 

 

“Miss Kringle?” He called again. He thought he greeted her already, he thought he was safely in the library but now suddenly he was back outside. Why was he outside when he clearly entered the library? He remembered seeing Miss Kringle’s kind face but it was gone now. His feet walked some more and Ed followed. “Miss Kringle?” he went on, calling her, hoping she’d make some sense of all this. “Miss Kringle, I don’t want to be here…” he muttered, suddenly feeling very hot. 

 

He could sense them… the boys from school who kicked him, and punched him, and called him names. They were laughing at him again, and he had no idea why. He wasn’t like them. They knew that, they could feel it in their gut that he was different than them. Perhaps that was why they hated him so much. But why hate the different? Another thing Ed couldn’t understand. In Gotham everyone seemed different. And Edward loved that! It was so liberating to just be yourself and be accepted for it because everyone else were being themselves too. Gotham… What was Gotham? Why wasn’t Edward in Gotham? 

 

“Miss Kringle? Please… did I dream Gotham up? Is Gotham real?” Fear was creeping into his voice. He remembered now, about the book, the magic, the mythical races he had met, and he was terrified that it was all just a dream, something his mind conjured up to confuse him. He  _ wanted  _ it to be  _ real _ . He wanted it to be real  _ so desperately _ . He wanted Gotham to be real. He wanted his life to be magical like that. He wanted to be the Riddler, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. But he wanted it. “Oh, please… not again…” he sobbed, curling up on himself as the crowds of grey identical people kept passing him by like an angry herd, kicking him in their hurry without a care, without a second thought. “Please…” Ed whispered, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as he was suddenly overcome with terror. 

 

“You stupid boy!” 

 

Edward froze. The people were gone. The city was gone. There was nothing but  _ that voice _ . 

 

“You  _ stupid,  _ **_stupid_ ** boy.” 

 

There was nothing but contempt and hatred in that voice. Disgust. Repulsion. No real feeling. No care. And definitely no love. 

 

“Father… I--” What was he to say? What could he say? No matter what he said, it always ended the same. “Forgive me…” 

 

“So weak! Even now. How could you be my son?” 

 

Father turned his head away from him, too sick to look at him, no doubt. At least that was a mercy, at least if he was looking away he wouldn’t-- do something else. Ed might get away without a beating this time. Good because he really didn’t want to it hurt again. 

 

But suddenly his father turned around, eyes  _ glowing with rage _ , teeth bare and sharp like an animal’s. Edward screamed, horrified. Father has always been scary, especially on his bad days, but this-- he has never been like  _ this _ ! 

 

“No! Please! No!” Edward cried out, desperate to get away, desperate to run. But he couldn’t. His blasted legs, they wouldn’t listen to him, they didn’t belong to him. He was-- who was he? He had no control over his own body. He was helpless. More helpless than when he was a kid. Why was this happening to him? Why did it happen before? Why was the world so bloody confusing? Ed loved puzzles. He could solve nearly all of them. But he never managed to find the answers to these questions. Why was this happening to him? Why did his father hate him so much? Why was he so different and why was that bad? …  _ Who was he…? _

 

He felt his father’s hands firm and strong around his neck. He sobbed, thrashed around like a fish out of water. There was no escape. He was caught, trapped, defenseless. The pain was back. The familiar pain. The terror. The shaking. He worked so hard to not feel that way ever again and now it was all back, all at once. The grip around his throat was getting tighter and tighter. Ed was suffocating, his vision blurred. He was gasping for air but couldn’t get it. He was dying, for real this time. He was definitely going to die this time. He would not survive it again. And then… 

 

… with a sharp gasp Edward woke up. He was drenched in cold sweat, heartbeat drumming in his chest, his ears, his neck, his entire body. His shaking hands instantly went up to his neck. No one was trying to strangle him. There was no one there. Where was he though? Was this Gotham? Or was Gotham really a dream too? He looked around, it was dark. Night, Ed realized. He was in a bed. A large one. Like the one he had in his chamber in the King’s Castle. So he was in Gotham after all. Good. And what just happened… that was a dream. It was just a dream. A nightmare and nothing more. He was safe… for now. 

 

He splashed some cold water on his face and changed his clothes. He avoided his reflection in the mirror, he didn’t like himself right now. He was angry at himself for allowing this weakness, this vulnerability.  

 

It was still dark outside but Edward couldn’t go back to sleep. He grabbed a robe and wrapped it around himself, tying it around his waist. Then he went out of his room, out in the castle. He needed a distraction. He needed to forget that nightmare. 

 

He walked through the castle hallways, taking in the silence. It was rather eerie but anything was better than what Ed had just experienced in his sleep. Those horrible feelings, he had hoped he'd never feel them again. But it was a long process to let go of certain events in one's life. Sometimes he just wanted to scream until everything was over. To scream, and forget, and--

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud horrified cry. It startled Ed in the dead silence of the Castle. For a brief moment he had no idea where the scream came from -- for all he knew, he could still be having his nightmare -- but then the cries continued just as loud and petrifying. Ed hurried in the direction of the sound, ready to help whoever was in trouble. As he approached closer to the source he could make out words in the screams -- HELP STOP PLEASE. It felt terribly familiar even though he had no idea what caused the distress. Could it be a tortured prisoner? Was Ed about to reveal a terrible secret? 

 

The cries were getting louder, therefore Ed was getting closer. Finally reaching the tormented soul wailing for help, only a door separating him from them, Ed stopped in his tracks, staring dumbly at that door as he suddenly realized it led to the King’s chambers. 

 

“Oh, dear…” he muttered to himself. That was the  _ King  _ screaming. 

 

Why would the King be screaming like that? And why were there no guards? Ed had never heard someone sounding so terrified before. Surely others could hear it too? Why was no one near?  

 

Frantic thoughts went through Edward’s head in a matter of seconds. Was someone attacking the King in his sleep? Could it be that Barbara had finally cracked and sent an assassin to finish Penguin off once and for all? If that was the case Ed had to stay out of her hair. As he had promised. He was supposed to support her. He was on her side after all, grateful for what she had done for him. She was the one who helped him when he needed it, when he was lost and confused. But as he listened to Penguin’s cries he couldn’t stay away. He had no idea why but the thought of the King being murdered made him feel sick. He realized in that moment that he didn’t want the King dead. He wanted him to live! 

 

Snapping out of it, Ed burst into the now familiar room, expecting to see a fight, someone wielding a knife at the King and plunging it into the King’s chest. Instead he found the room nearly entirely shrouded in darkness with only the moonlight seeping through the half-drawn curtains. There was no sign of an intruder, only the King tossing and turning in his bed, screaming in terror, desperate. His eyes were tightly shut, his face twisted in a horrified grimace, he was covered in sweat much like Ed was not long ago. Was this some dark magic at play here? Ed approached the bed carefully. It didn’t seem like magic. It seemed like… Ed looked around again. There was no assassin. No murder. No evil hex. Just a man, tortured by his nightmares. Whatever the King saw in his sleep was enough to drive him mad with terror. Ed couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. After all, he too was intimately familiar with the feeling.

 

He took a few more careful steps towards the King’s bed and tentatively placed a hand on the sleeping man’s shoulder, shaking him gently. The touch alone was enough to startle Penguin awake. His eyes, wide and mad, bore into Ed dangerously. 

 

“What are you doing here? Get away from me!” Penguin hissed angrily, pulling away from Edward as if his proximity had burnt him. 

 

“You were having a bad dream, I thought…” Ed stuttered but the King wouldn’t listen. He was shaking with rage. 

 

“Don’t you know that no one’s allowed in here? Get out! Get out of my sight before I kill you!” 

 

Ed ran, the King’s loud angry cries echoing throughout the Castle. 

 

~*~ 

 

Overcome with emotions, scared and confused from his own nightmare and the events that took place afterwards, Ed shut the door to his room, locked it, and started sobbing. He couldn’t hold his tears anymore, they were weighing on him, dragging him down, threatening to drown him if he didn’t let them out. So he did. He cried and sobbed and wailed like a wounded animal. He cried like the weak broken man that he was. There was no shame or self-loathing left anymore, just terrible, terrible pain that he could no longer carry around. At least at this particular moment the pain was too heavy for him to carry. So he cried. And cried. And cried, until finally he passed out and sleep granted him blissful yet temporary oblivion. 

 

~*~   

 

The next morning things were a little better. The good cry from the previous night came as a relief and the short but heavy sleep allowed his mind to rest a bit. Edward was no longer scared, no longer under the control of his own nightmares or the King’s threats. He was… recharged. 

 

Yet he felt slightly uneasy at the thought of leaving the sanctuary of his room. After what happened last night Ed wasn’t sure he wanted to see the King again. He wasn’t sure the King wanted to see him either. The situation was particularly awkward because Edward wasn’t sure what angered the King so much. Was it his nightmare or was is the fact that Edward had witnessed it? Knowing how vulnerable and weak he himself felt after one of his own nightmares, he could only imagine what the King must’ve felt like. There must’ve been a reason why no guard came to aid when they heard their King scream like that and Edward was beginning to suspect that this wasn’t the first intense nightmare Penguin’s had. It was very likely those screams were a regular thing and the guards knew not to interfere. Now that Edward thought about it, it was quite sad.  

 

Feeling pity for the King was not something Ed expected to happen but it encouraged him leave the room and face Penguin if Penguin was ready to face him back. He decided firmly against hiding in his room and made sure to spend the day out in the open. 

 

As it turned out, however, the King was not ready to see him because Ed spent the entire day on his own. Even Olga didn’t show herself today. Ed only shrugged. “As you wish,” he said out loud even though no one was listening to him. 

 

There was nothing he could do about the incident from last night. It wasn’t even his fault the King was so paranoid. So instead of reminiscing over spilt milk, Ed spent the entire day in the library, buried in ancient texts and interesting books. All in all, it was a good way to pass his time. 

 

It was near sunset when he heard a soft knock on the library door. He was surprised that anyone would knock, considering it wasn’t a private room. 

 

“Come in?” Ed said nevertheless, not wishing to keep whoever knocked waiting. 

 

The door slowly opened and Penguin appeared, cane in hand. He looked tired even though he had obviously put effort not to show it. 

 

“Mind if I--?” he didn’t finish his sentence but Edward nodded. He wasn’t going to leave the King outside of his own library. Besides, he was rather looking forward to them having a proper conversation about the events of last night. 

 

The King limped inside, closing the door behind him. There was a moment of silence before he cleared his throat and spoke, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Edward.” 

 

“Oh? You were?” Ed asked, careful not to sound insolent but not willing to take any more crap from that man. “From what I saw you were avoiding me all day.” 

 

“That’s not what I was--” he sighed. “I understand why you thought that. But Edward, I’m not angry. And I’m not avoiding you. Last night--” Edward waited to hear the rest but the King hesitated. “This isn’t easy for me… I don’t talk about-- these things.” Ed was still waiting patiently. Finally the King gave up and waddled to a chair. “I have to sit down for this. It’s gonna take time and my leg isn’t making it any easier.” 

 

“Of course,” Ed nodded in understanding and followed the King’s lead, taking the seat next to him. 

 

Once they were settled Penguin opened his mouth as if he were about to start talking again but no sound came out. Ed wondered what could be so difficult for the King to speak about.  

 

“I was wrong to snap at you last night,” he finally said. “You were only trying to help.” 

 

“I was,” Ed replied seriously. 

 

“Yes. Yes, you were. I’m not used to people not wanting to harm me,” the King chuckled slightly but continued, “I have these nightmares. They’re pretty intense as you probably saw last night. I wasn’t myself when I woke up and-- Usually there’s no one around at nights like this. I didn’t expect to see anyone there. I-- I thought you wanted to kill me.” 

 

“I wasn’t!” 

 

“I know. I know that. I didn’t know it back then. That’s why I--” 

 

“Yelled at me? Threatened to kill me if I didn’t get away?” Ed supplied. 

 

Penguin’s lips twitched lightly. “Yes. That.” He was silent for a moment and then, “I apologize. I was wrong and I’m sorry I scared you. I hope you can forgive me.” 

 

Penguin sounded so sincere, Ed was dumbfounded. He never expected an apology from the King. His lips parted as he wanted to accept it but instead he heard himself ask a whole different question altogether. “These nightmares… They happen often?” 

 

“Sometimes…” Penguin confessed quietly, almost sheepishly.  

 

“What did you dream about?” 

 

Penguin shifted in his seat and for a brief moment Ed thought he wasn’t going to answer but the King surprised him yet again. 

 

“There was a massacre. Centuries ago,” he said. “I was very young. My people… the goblins… they were killed. All of them.” He shook his head, trying hard to keep his voice emotionless but failing. Ed could hear his pain in the way his voice trembled, could see it in his shaky hands and stiff shoulders. “My mother, she-- she didn’t survive. I’m the only one left! … Just me…” 

 

“I’m so sorry…” Edward said, meaning it. He knew Gothamites weren't particularly fond of goblins but he never expected they committed genocide against them. 

 

Penguin wiped the treacherous tear that slid down his cheek and inhaled sharply. “Anyway. That was what I was dreaming about last night.”  

 

“You were reliving those terrible memories,” Ed furrowed his brows. “Does that happen often?” 

 

“... yes,” a quiet confirmation. “Yes, it does. Centuries later I still see it so vividly. Their cries, the terror, the fear… Everything. And it still hurts.” 

 

On instinct, Edward reached out and held Penguin’s hand in his. The King, startled at first, allowed the touch with a slight nod. 

 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Edward said, meaning it. “I cannot even imagine what it must’ve felt like for you. What it must  _ still  _ feel like. But you’re stronger for it now. I see you rule this kingdom and I don’t see a broken goblin. I see a man who cannot be bargained. A man who answers to no one but himself. I see a free man,” he paused. He had never told anyone what he was about to say but he felt like he had to reciprocate with a confession of his own. “I too have my own nightmares, memories that haunt me… and in those moments of weakness I try to remind myself that I’m no longer a frightened boy. That I  _ survived _ . And if I survived then that means I’ll survive anything that stands in my way from now on. Just like you do!” 

 

He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say or not. It was a risky thing to tell the King of Gotham. But when Penguin lifted his gaze to meet Edward’s eyes, Ed saw how deeply moved the King was by his words. They didn’t speak much about it after, but since that afternoon they both understood each other a little better. It turned out Edward and the King had more in common than either of them had initially expected. Who knew? 


	11. Chapter XI: Memories of an Elf, Memories of a Human

“Barbara Kean, we need to talk,” Jim announced as he walked into what Barbara used as her throne room in the elven city. 

 

Barbara arched a beautifully shaped eyebrow. “Jim Gordon. Ever the charmer.” 

 

“No time for small talk, Barbara. This is important.” 

 

“It always is with you,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You’re always in a rush. All work and no play.” 

 

“I didn’t come here for games, Barbara. I know what you’re planning. It won’t work.” 

 

Barbara inhaled sharply through her nose, trying to keep her cool. She wasn’t thrilled to talk to Jim again. It’s been long since he left with the centaurs but she was still furious about it. Barbara Kean had a good memory, she never forgot a betrayal, and she deemed what Jim did a betrayal. She was forced to endure his presence in the Iceberg Castle but she didn’t need that in her own city. 

 

“I don’t think I want to talk to you, Jim,” she said, waving her fingers at him for a goodbye. “In fact, I don’t see what we could possibly say to each other. I thought you preferred the company of centaurs anyway.” 

 

“You know why I left, Barbara. I’ve explained it a hundred times--” 

 

Jim  _ actually  _ sounded exasperated by her bringing it up which only annoyed her more. In one jerky motion she raised her hand to stop him from talking. “That’s in the past. Who keeps track of that?”  _ She  _ clearly did, but that wasn’t something she’d discuss with  _ him  _ today. She smiled instead. “As I said, we have nothing to talk about. Toodle-loo!” 

 

“Just one thing,” Jim said, ignoring her words. “Ed Nygma.” 

 

The name got her attention, just like he suspected it would. She glanced around to make sure there was no one else nearby to listen in, then pursed her lips. “Fine, Jim. Speak.” 

 

“Whatever you’re trying to pull off with Nygma, it won’t work,” the human warned. “Penguin’s too smart to fall for it. He’s going to kill the guy if he catches him snooping around or whatever it is you’ve instructed him to do there, and I won’t let another human die because of your arrogance.” 

 

Barbara glared at him, her eyes shooting daggers. Jim’s face remained calm but stern with determination, the same steel blue gaze she used to know so long ago. The air was charged with tension. There was no sign of a tender feeling between them anymore.  _ He’s changed,  _ Barbara thought distantly. But then again, she’d changed too. They weren’t the same people they once were, yet their history together remained carved inside them, and no matter how long ago it had happened it was not forgotten. 

 

_ “I understand you want to fight him, Barbara, but this is not the way. You can’t use the Jester for this, it’s too dangerous.” Jim insisted. They’ve been having this same conversation for days now. Barbara was sick of it.  _

 

_ “Don’t give me that. I know what this is  _ **_truly_ ** _ about, Jim. Just say it!” she hissed infuriated. She wouldn’t be lied to or made a fool!  _

 

_ “What are you talking about?”  _

 

_ “I know why you want to stop my plan. You’re his spy, aren’t you? You’re that beaky-nosed freak-goblin’s spy! You’re on  _ **_his_ ** _ side!” she screamed. “You spent so much time with him in that castle, helping him, advising him, you can’t really turn against him! You care what happens to him!” she jabbed her finger in front of Jim’s face. “You said you’re with me but you’re working for him! Even now!”  _

 

_ “Barbara, that’s not true. Penguin is a tyrant. I can see that now. I recognize it,” his hands wrapped around her forearms as if the contact would somehow convince her in the truthfulness of his words. “I want to bring Penguin down as much as you do. But getting the Jester involved in this is a bad idea. If you stop to  _ **_think_ ** _ about it for a moment, you’d realize how  _ **_crazy_ ** _ it is!”  _

 

_ She jerked away from his grip. “Are you saying I’m too stupid to think, or are you calling me crazy?”  _

 

_ “Neither. I just meant--”  _

 

_ “I am the leader of this people, Jim!  _ **_I_ ** _ tell them what to do and how! And  _ **_I_ ** _ know how to lead!”  _

 

_ Jim sighed. “You do, but I thought you valued my advice.”  _

 

_ “Not when it’s clearly a stupid and biased one.”  _

 

_ “I’m not biased when it comes to Penguin. Why do you keep saying that?”  _

 

_ “You act like it!”  _

 

_ “Penguin and I weren’t even that close. He asked for my opinions every now and then but that’s all. I’m  _ **_not_ ** _ his spy! I’m  _ **_not_ ** _ working for him!” Jim insisted, frustration seeping through his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose to calm down again. “I agree Penguin needs to be stopped,” he said, softer. “But to use the Jester for it? The Jester has brought nothing but ruin to Gotham. There was a reason why he was locked away all those centuries ago. You don’t need that kind of force roaming free in our realm, Barbara. You should not use someone as dangerous as him as a weapon.”    _

 

_ “I wouldn’t want him as my weapon if he weren’t dangerous, Jim. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been in Gotham longer than you. I know this place better,” her eyes were filled with intensity. “This is my decision, Jim. Are you with me or against me?”  _

 

_ The silence was heavy in the room, nearly suffocating them as the seconds slowly ticked. Finally Jim shook his head. “I’m sorry, Barbara, but if that’s the path you’ve chosen, then I have to be against you.”  _

 

_ He sounded sad when he said it. He knew leaving the elven city meant ending his relationship with Barbara too. It was a tough choice for him, he had seen a future with her, but he could not make compromises with his principles. He hoped Barbara would understand that once her anger subsided.  _

 

Back to the here and now, Barbara still glared at Jim. He abandoned her that day and she was too hurt to ever forget it. He claimed he loved her but then he tried to control her plans and her people. She couldn’t have that and she made sure he understood she was the one in charge. She hoped to have his support but he couldn’t accept her way, couldn’t see things from her angle. So he left and although Barbara’s wound had healed it still left a scar. She did not trust Gordon anymore. She did not trust any man. She didn’t want his opinions, nor did she want him to meddle in her affairs. She knew what she was doing. She was a queen! No one should be giving her orders. 

 

She took a step toward the human, eliminating the distance between them, and lifted her chin defiantly. “You’re wrong, Jim. I have nothing to do with Edward being in the castle. It was Penguin who decided to keep him there, not me. It was Penguin’s order, in case you haven’t noticed. There’s nothing I could do to stop him.” 

 

“You’re using Edward though, admit it,” Jim persisted. 

 

“I’m not using him, I’m helping him!” Barbara insisted with passion. “Do you think  _ I  _ brought Edward to Gotham? You really think I did that?”

 

Jim put his hands on his hips. “How else would a human suddenly turn up on  _ your  _ territory?” 

 

“I did not bring Ed here! If I had such power, would I still be sitting here twiddling my thumbs? I would’ve acted!” 

 

Jim arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think even for a moment that you sit here doing nothing, Barbara.” 

 

“You think I’m plotting, Jim?” Her voice was laced with deceptive gentleness. 

 

Jim didn’t buy it for one moment. “I know so,” he said. “You’re planning something and it involves Ed. But it’s going to end in flames.” 

 

“Ha!” 

 

“You still want to free your Jester, don’t you?” He didn’t need her verbal confirmation, it was in the sparks of her eyes when he mentioned the imp’s name. Jim sighed. “I told you then and I’m telling you now, this is a bad idea. The Jester is too dangerous to be set free! You have to finally give that plan up.” 

 

“You know  _ nothing  _ about my plans anymore!” Barbara hissed, furious. “You did once, when I let you in, when I shared with you, but no more.” She glared at him intensely until suddenly her anger melted into a pleasant and slightly teasing smile. “Or perhaps you still want to be in my confidence? You want me to let you in once again?” She reached out, brushing her thumb against his cheek. There was heat behind the gesture but also slight mockery. She was toying with him, not taking him seriously. 

 

Jim pulled away with a frown. “I just came here to warn you, Barbara. If you try something, with or without Nygma, I’ll stop you, again. I won’t have maniacs roaming in Gotham. Don’t say I didn’t give you a warning.” 

 

“So concerned about little old me! Should I be flattered?” She played it like she didn’t care, like it was all a game to her. But on the inside she was burning. She was always burning. Men of all species and races thought they owned the world, assumed they could do whatever they pleased when they pleased. Not for long. Their time was ending soon. Barbara would use them all if she had to, like the tools they were, to get what she wanted. Somehow Jim sensed that. 

 

“Goodbye, Barbara,” he said, giving a slight nod with his head. 

 

Barbara swallowed, watching him leave. Seeing him turn his back on her again twisted something inside her. She did not love him anymore, that much was certain. Her heart was occupied with someone entirely different now, someone she could actually trust. Yet sometimes she wanted to hurt him. She wanted him to suffer like she suffered when he abandoned her for the centaurs. Her hands curled into tight fists and she was about to lose control and charge at him in all her fury when he suddenly turned around to face her again. 

 

“One more thing,” he said a bit hesitant. “What do you know about… dreams?” 

 

“Dreams?” Barbara frowned, the unexpected question taking her by surprise. 

 

“Yes. I get these weird dreams recently… They feel like memories but I don’t remember them ever happening. They’re blurry and… and confusing. Mostly they’re more like feelings than actual events. I don’t know what to make of them.” 

 

“Your friends the centaurs can’t help you with that?” Barbara couldn’t help but smirk. 

 

“They don’t know what to make of them either,” Jim said, pursing his lips, clearly displeased with her words. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me--”

 

“No, no, I want to. This is too juicy to ignore,” she said quickly. “What you’re experiencing sounds like magic, Jim. Someone’s been tampering with your mind, altering your perception. Or it could be just weird dreams and nothing more.” 

 

Jim furrowed his brows. “Tampering with my mind? How?” 

 

Barbara shrugged. “I can’t tell. Such magic hasn’t been used in centuries. It might not even be magic. It just sounds a little like it.” 

 

Jim did not say anything. “I’ll see you around, Barbara.” 

 

“I hope not.” 

 

Jim gave her a look. “Despite what happened between us, I still don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

 

“Is this a confession?” She asked sarcastically. 

 

“It’s not about love, Barbara. It’s about common decency.” 

 

“Well, you’re the expert in that, Jim.” 

 

Jim sighed. He could not win this one. “Goodbye, Barbara. Please, take care of yourself and your people.” 

 

“I  _ always  _ take care of my people,” she said proudly. 

 

They parted once again. 

 

Jim tried. He really did. He knew the odds of actually getting through to her were very small. Nearly non-existent. Barbara always did what she wanted. She rarely listened to someone else. Yet Jim sincerely hoped she would change her mind about freeing the Jester. For Gotham’s sake. It would be devastating if she succeeded. The Jester was an entity of chaos, all he brought in the past was pain and destruction. Barbara would be switching one evil with another. Penguin was a criminal, but at least he maintained order and peace in Gotham. The Jester would be out of control. As for Edward Nygma… Jim wondered what was in store for that man. He was a real mystery, appearing here out of nowhere. What force brought Edward Nygma to Gotham. And most importantly, why? 

 

~*~

 

Jim woke up with a start again. Another dream memory. This time even weirder than before. They were getting more frequent too. It used to be once every couple of months. Now it was down to twice or more a week. What provoked those? 

 

He got up from bed, put on a shirt and went outside hoping that the cool night air would clear his head. 

 

“Is it happening again?” Harvey asked. “I couldn’t sleep either,” he explained at Jim’s silent question. 

 

“Yeah,” Jim said, exhaling loudly. His forehead was still covered with sweat and he wiped it with his hand. “It’s happening again. I don’t know what this is about, Harvey.” 

 

Harvey shook his head. “You claim they ain’t nightmares but you look like someone who just woke up from a nightmare.” 

 

“They’re not nightmares. I’m sure of it,” Jim said with certainty. “They’re not necessarily unpleasant or hurtful in any way. They’re just… intense. I feel them so strongly. I never remember them after I wake up. In the morning all that’s left from them is the memory of that feeling…” 

 

“A memory of a feeling is a tricky case to solve, pal,” Harvey shook his head.  

 

“I’ll find out what that is, Harvey. I swear it,” Jim said determined. 

 

He had a few vague theories already. According to Barbara, it could be magic and Jim thought along the same lines too. If that were true and it really was magic, then his main suspect remains Penguin. Who else had access to magic in Gotham? And the King did act strange around Jim in the castle. So it could be him playing with Jim’s mind for some reason. Either that or whoever brought Nygma in Gotham was responsible. If Barbara wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t bring the new human here, then who was it? Who had access to magic powerful enough to bring in a human from another dimension? There had to be something Jim was missing. Some obscure connection he hadn’t considered yet. Whatever it was, he was on it, ready to investigate. He used to be a cop back on Earth, after all. 


	12. Chapter XII: Where White Lilies Bloom

Their relationship changed after the last incident. They spent more time together, Penguin keeping Ed company more often than before, not isolating himself from Ed so much. Ed in turn welcomed the opportunity to get to know the King better with a metaphorical open embrace. It worked wonders because both seemed less tense around one another, more at ease, as if they were rebuilding that trust that sort of started back when Edward thought Penguin was just the Housekeeper. The time he didn’t spend with the King, Ed used for reading in the library or further exploring the Castle. It was a big place after all, plenty of things to discover and be in awe of. Ed felt a bit like a kid in a magical castle, which wasn’t too far from the truth.  

 

“Any plans for the evening?” The King asked casually at dinner. They eat their meals together now. Edward was only eating alone at breakfast.

 

“Not really,” Ed shrugged. “Just the usual. It’s not like I’m following a schedule here.”

 

The corners of Penguin’s lips quirked up but he didn’t comment on Ed’s remark. “Because I was thinking, perhaps we could spend it together then. You’re always sneaking around the Castle curiously, why don’t I show you around instead?”

 

“I’m _not_ sneaking around, I’m _exploring_ ,” Edward corrected, fighting the urge to pout. “As for your suggestion,” he added, now a small smile spreading across his face instead, “I’d love to be shown around by you. After all, I expect you know this Castle better than anyone.”

 

Penguin nodded. “I do indeed. That’s why you’ll never find anything unless I want you to.”

 

Ed furrowed his brows a little, slightly confused by the King’s last statement, but then he just shrugged it off. “But why tonight? Why not show me around during the day? We’ll have more time.”

 

“What I’m about to show would be much more impressive at night than in daylight,” Penguin said simply, eyes boring into Edward, waiting for his response.   

 

Ed was thoughtful for a moment. This was rather strange, wasn’t it? Edward was no expert in social situations but this struck him as a little odd. Penguin suggesting nightly strolls around the Castle? That mysterious glint in his blue-green eyes? It _was_ odd. But come to think of it, the King seemed to favor the night, Edward observed for himself. It was not such a recent thing either.  

 

“You know, if I didn’t know better,” Ed said out loud, “I would’ve thought you were a vampire.” It was meant as a joke. But the King’s puzzled expression was so honestly confused and nearly outraged that Ed couldn’t help but laugh. “I was only teasing, Your Majesty,” Ed quickly added. “But now I realize that in Gotham vampires might as well be one of the races you rule. This joke doesn’t work quite so well here.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“What I mean is, you’re a night owl, aren’t you?” Ed continued, intrigued. “You always come visit me at the afternoon, mostly after sunset. I hardly ever see you in the mornings or at noon. You never go outside in the daylight. It’s like you’re hiding from the sun. One begins to wonder.”

 

“What does one wonder…?” The King pressed but there was no edge to his tone, only curiosity.

 

“Ohe wonder what did the sun ever do to you?” Ed said and then laughed again.

 

Realizing this was obviously another joke the King too chuckled. “Your observational skills are impressive,” he said. His expression was humorous but he still seemed a little tense. “I guess you could say I am a night owl.”

 

“Oh, back on Earth I used to stay really late sometimes. Reading or playing games. I used to love that. Now my sleeping schedule is weird.”

 

“Playing games?” The King asked curiously. He seemed lowkey curious about Edward’s world but he never dared to outright ask for details. As if the human world outside Gotham was something he feared and preferred to keep away from.

 

“Video games, mostly. I guess you don’t have those in here but they’re like… like make-believe. Like theater play you can participate in without actually having to move.”

 

“Sounds lazy,” the King teased amused.

 

“It was so much fun! But most of my games were brain teasers and puzzles,” Ed said, a smile appearing on his face at the mention of his favorite activities. “I love puzzles and riddles.”

 

The King chuckled. “I’ve noticed. You’ve asked me quite a few of those during your stay here.”

 

“And you made your opinion on them quite clear,” Ed bowed his head a little, making sure to show his playful irritation at the King’s reluctance for riddles.

 

“I’m just not as passionate about them as you are,” Penguin replied in like. “But I doubt anyone is.”

 

They finished dinner quickly, neither really up for food when an adventure awaited them! At least to Edward it felt like an adventure. To the King it was just taking a stroll in his house at night, which probably wasn’t as exciting for him as it was for his special guest. Edward followed the King, their steps echoing in the Castle halls giving the experience an even more mysterious atmosphere. Ed felt as the hero of a gothic novel and he had to admit the feeling was thrilling, anticipation building inside him. However, as they walked he found himself more curious about the King’s peculiar walk than his surroundings or the castle architecture. The King had a limp. Of course, Edward was already aware of the fact, he had noticed it before, it was rather obvious. What made the King’s limp different this time was that now Edward could actually examine it better. The King usually avoided walking for too long. Whenever they were together Edward had only seen him move from one part of the room to another, from a door to a chair. That hardly gave him the opportunity to actually look at it. This longer excursion, however, allowed Ed to better observe the goblin’s limp. _An injured leg_ , he concluded, _twisted and probably not well healed, judging by the way Penguin avoided stepping on it for too long._ Ed realized he was more curious about that injured leg than he first thought he would be. Penguin’s limp was a personal matter, something intimate the King had to deal with everyday single day of his life. Did it hurt? Did it get in the King’s way? Was it an old injury? Was it healing properly? Did he have doctors looking after it? Was the medicine in Gotham advanced enough to handle such injuries? Edward tilted his head slightly. He wondered where the King got his injury. Was it during the Gotham wars? Or perhaps one of his enemies did it? Could Edward somehow be of help? The injury gave the King a strange sort of waddle and now more than ever Edward could see the resemblance to penguins that everybody talked about. Not only that but the entire appearance of the King reminded that of a bird. What once Ed would consider odd and peculiar, he now found pleasing and interesting. There were layers to the King. Penguin was a puzzle. And Edward loved puzzles.   

 

Lost in thought he didn’t realize when they reached one of the doors that led outside of the Castle.

 

Edward frowned. “Are you taking me to the garden?” he asked, rather disappointed. He was expecting secret chambers, hidden rooms! Instead he got the gardens -- something he had seen several times already and often did not pay much attention to.

 

“I am. Another good observation, Edward, well done,” Penguin said, sounding a bit amused at Edward’s reaction, as if he were sharing an inside joke with himself.  

 

“Right,” Ed sighed. “I’ve seen the garden, y’know.”

 

“Why, Edward, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re disappointed.”

 

Ed gave the King a look. “Now I _know_ you’re messing with me,” he rolled his eyes. “The garden is pretty but it’s still just a garden. There’s nothing _that_ interesting _there_.”

 

Penguin laughed and for a moment Edward was mesmerized that he was one of the few people to hear a genuine laughter coming from the Goblin King himself.

 

“You haven’t been to _this_ garden,” the King clarified, making a few odd turns as he guided Edward through more hidden passages. This place suddenly felt like a labyrinth and Edward felt the excitement returning to his stomach.

 

“Edward Nygma,” the King announced when they apparently reached their destination. “I present you my very own piece of Heaven.”  

 

One last turn and the most beautiful view was revealed before the human’s eyes. A magnificent garden full of white lilies, isolated from the rest of the Castle like an island on its own. The beautiful flowers were shimmering in the moonlight, filling the clear night air with their gentle fragrance. It was a small and secluded piece of land which only added to the mysterious and intimate atmosphere of the place. A private piece of Heaven, no doubt.

 

Edward was in awe and it showed. “This is beautiful!” he whispered breathless. He had no idea this hidden jewel existed and now it had taken his breath away. This was no ordinary garden. This felt magical, special.

 

“It is, isn’t it?” Penguin quietly agreed, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he watched his hidden garden with pride and love.

 

“I can’t believe all this time I ignored the gardens!” Edward exclaimed, only half-joking.

 

“No one ever comes here but me. So it’s no surprise you didn’t know about it. It’s a secret,” Penguin smiled, almost fondly.

 

Edward looked at the King. “No one ever comes here?” he said, feeling rather touched. “Yet you let me in.”

 

It wasn’t a formulated as a question but the question was implied. Penguin seemed a little sheepish for a moment as he muttered, “I wanted to.”

 

It was as simple as that. There was no further explanation, no reason behind it. It was simply the Penguin’s wish so he did it. No hidden agenda or any kind of logic. The decision to invite Edward into his own private sanctuary seemed to be guided by emotions alone and it struck Edward deeply that the King would do that. That he would _want_ that. Were they really getting closer? Was friendship beginning to bloom between them? Perhaps it was their conversation the other night, their nightmares and sorrows bringing them closer together, boosting the birth of a new friendship. Being friendless for most of his life, Edward felt really touched by this gesture.

 

“Thank you for letting me in,” he said, heartfelt.  

 

Penguin accepted the gratitude with a nod and waddled to the nearby bench. He gave a little wince as he sat down -- which Edward noted with his new curiosity about the King’s injured leg -- and then looked up at Ed expectantly. Ed smiled at the silent invitation and took the seat next to the King.  

 

Edward expected the King would start a conversation. Perhaps use this opportunity to ask Edward more about Barbara or something. Maybe _that_ was the plan. To soften Ed up and then politely interrogate him. Instead the King only breathed in the gentle scent of the lilies and relaxed under the moonlight.

 

“I love this place,” he said softly. “It’s very special to me.”

 

“It truly is beautiful.” Ed agreed. “Are white lilies your favorite flowers?” he inquired.

 

“My mother’s,” the King replied. “She loved white lilies so much. So I created this garden in her memory. It was one of the first things I did when I moved in to this Castle. I needed this secluded small white garden to remind me she's still close to me, in y heart."

 

“Aww, that’s really sweet and-- wait, you _created_ this place? You _personally_?”

 

Penguin nodded, smiling at Edward’s surprise. “I told you no one ever comes here. Not even to build it or maintain it.”

 

“That _is_ impressive,” Edward said, still processing. “I didn’t know you could-- I mean, from what I’ve heard about you-- I mean, I just assumed you wouldn’t be that good with flowers.”

 

“Interesting,” the King shifted in his seat, turning slightly so that he could face Edward better. “I would ask what you’ve heard about me but I think already know.”

 

“You think you know everything, don’t you.” Ed shook his head.

 

“I _do_ know everything. Or at least, nothing stays hidden from me for too long.”

 

“Must be good to have all this information, pouring in,” Ed observed. People never told him anything back on Earth. And it didn’t seem much different now.

 

Penguin tilted his head a little, as if humoring a puppy. “You curious about something, Edward?”

 

“Oh, lots of things,” Ed chuckled.

 

Penguin opened his arms in intivation. “Fine. Then let’s play a game. I know you like those.”  

 

“I do!” Ed said with an excited grin. “What’s the game?”

 

“You ask one question I have to answer, then I ask one question you have to answer in return. You get the idea.”

 

Edward nodded with a smirk. “I llllike it! But you must promise not to get angry or defensive about my questions. I do tend to get a bit intrusive when I get excited. I don’t know where the line is.”  

 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Penguin smirked. “I do have a bit of a temper though but I’ll try. I consent as long as you promise the same.”

 

“You have my word,” Ed solemnly reassured. “Can I go first?”

 

“Be my guest.”

 

Ed grinned. “I see what you did there.”

 

“Didn’t try to hide it.”

 

“No, I mean-- never mind. My first question is… Did you use magic to create this garden?”

 

Penguin shook his head. “No. I made it the old-fashioned way. Good old green thumb, botanical skills, and lots of hope.”

 

“I’m even more in awe right now,” Ed said, eyes sparkling.

 

“My turn,” Penguin said. “Did you know about Gotham before you came here?”

 

It was Ed’s turn to shake his head. “Not even a clue. I didn’t imagine anything like it could exist. In my world, magical places like that aren’t real.”

 

“That’s sad.”

 

“It is. But we create them in our minds, in our literature, our music, our culture.”

 

“I guess that’s one way to make up for it,” the King nodded.

 

“Okay. How old are you, really?”

 

“That’s a strange question to ask!”

 

Ed narrowed his eyes. “You’re not answering it though. Are you being vain, Your Majesty? You know us humans live less so you don’t want to appear too old to me?”

 

“No! I just-- it’s a strange question.”

 

Edward laughed. “That’s alright. I already know you’re more than 200 years old. _Everyone_ here seems to be more than 200.” he added, rolling his eyes.

 

“Fine. If you must ask, I’m 331,” Penguin said. “Happy now?”

 

“Are you suuuure?” Ed teased, dragging out the word. “You’re not taking a few centuries off just to be a young man longer, are you?”

 

The King shook his head with a chuckle. “You’re unbelievable. I’m 331.”

 

“Neat. Only 303 years older than me.”

 

“So you’re--”

 

“28. And that counts as your third question so now it’s my turn again!”

 

“You're a cheat,” the King teased.

 

Ed grinned playfully. “But you can’t deny I’m right.”  

 

“Technically you may have a point to a _certain_ extend...” the King allowed.

 

Edward’s grin grew even wider. He was enjoying this! He looked like an excited puppy but the King didn’t seem to mind.

 

“So my turn!” Ed clapped his hands. “Is it true what they say about your name?”

 

The King leaned in a little, getting closer to Ed. “What _do_ they say about my name?”

 

“Oh, come on!” Ed threw his hands in the air. “I thought you knew _everything_.”  

 

The King only smirked. “I don't know what _you_ know.”

 

Edward gave him a distrustful look but he still humored the King by elaborating on his question further. “They say that your name, your _actual goblin_ _name_ , holds a special power and that’s why you keep it a secret, so that no one has that power over you. Is that true?”

 

Penguin’s eyes remained fixed on Ed as if challenging him, a small smile playing on his lips despite the delicacy of the question. _No one_ asked the King about his name or any personal questions, really. No one but Ed, that was.

 

“It is true, yes,” the King finally said with a nod. “And it’s not just _my_ name. It’s _all_ names. Most people don’t realize the power of their own names, which is a shame. I learned it very early in my life.”

 

“Did you find it in a magical book?” Magical books seemed to show up randomly and change people’s lives, according to Edward’s experience, so he only expected that to be the case with the King too.

 

“No, no magical book,” Penguin shook his head. “It was my mother who told me about it, actually. She taught me many useful things.”  

 

Another mention of Penguin’s mother, Edward couldn’t believe his ears! He talked about his mother a lot lately, it was unusual. Penguin wasn’t the type to just “share stuff” with people. In fact, Edward suspected the King only talked about his mother with _him_ and that made Ed feel special. He knew it was a delicate and sensitive topic, so he was careful not to pry too much. It was better to wait for the King to decide when and if he wanted to talk about his mother, or what happened to her and his entire kind. However, it appeared the King felt gradually more comfortable with discussing these topics with Edward. Another show of friendship, Edward thought with pride.  

 

“From what I hear from you, she was a remarkable person,” Ed said, hoping to convey respect.

 

“She was,” Penguin agreed, his voice wavering slightly. “And she loved me so much.”

 

Looking at the King, Edward couldn’t not notice the goblin’s eyes were glistening in the moonlight. He could swear those were tears budding in Penguin’s eyes. Ed swallowed nervously, not sure if he was equipped for an emotional response like that. He wasn’t sure what the procedure here was. He was better with logic, not with emotions or social cues. The King seemed surprisingly emotional for someone who wanted to appear ruthless. Unsure if it was alright to offer comfort or to keep his distance, Edward decided to reciprocate by sharing something of his own.

 

“I never had a mother,” he confessed. “She wasn’t dead but she wasn’t really there for me, even when I needed her most.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he heard Penguin say softly. “I’m used to getting hard blows from everyone in the world but at least I always had my mother’s unconditional love. It helped me carry on. I cannot imagine what it must’ve been like for you to have to face the world alone.”  

 

Ed nodded. “It was rough,” he admitted, surprised to hear himself speak of it out loud to another person. “I was all alone. Different from everyone around me, weird, odd, a freak…” Was he actually saying all that!? To Penguin of all people!? Why!? Once he started he couldn’t stop. “It wasn’t any better at home. My father hated me. I was not what he wanted me to be so whenever there was something that frustrated him (which was nearly all the time) he took it out on me. My happiest moments were when I was alone and ignored because at least then no one was hurting me. But I wasn’t so lucky. I was my father’s punching bag, both emotionally and physically. ” He had no idea what the King’s face was conveying at that moment. He didn’t want to look. He just wanted to talk, to let it out finally, to be unburdened. “He would yell at me, hit me, bruise me, hurt me, laugh at me, mock me… and she wouldn’t even show concern! I understand she, too, was afraid of him -- most likely -- but she could’ve--” his voice broke, he inhaled sharply, pressing his fingers to his eyes, desperate to keep the tears inside, “-- she could’ve at least come to comfort me afterwards. To help me with my wounds or hug me like a real mother would… I had to do it all by myself … I was so scared … Constantly expecting to be hurt by his cruelty, or by her indifference, or by everyone else who ever thought I’m a freak. I grew up depressed, anxious, jittery, and constantly afraid! All I wanted was to disappear… And I had no one to understand or comfort me. Or just… listen…”

 

His heart was pounding. Saying this out loud for the first time took out a lot of his energy. He was shaking. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. … He had to pull himself together. What was that? Why did he even begin to--  

 

A pair of arms wrapped around him, making him freeze for a moment. Penguin was pulling him into a light embrace as if asking for permission to give Ed that hug he never received from his mother. Overcome with emotions Edward wrapped his own arms tightly around the King, burying his face in the King’s shoulders and finally starting to sob. Penguin let him. He didn’t judge, he didn’t stop him. His hands rubbed at Edward’s back comfortingly while he patiently waited for Ed to calm down. It was therapeutic in a very strange and unexpected way. Up in the night sky the Moon was still glowing, the stars were shining brightly, and the gentle fragrance of the white lilies surrounded them in a pleasant warm blanket of aroma.


	13. Chapter XIII: Trust is Hard to Find in Gotham

He must be losing his mind! He was letting the human get to him! Not only had he revealed such a personal, nearly  _ intimate  _ part of the Castle to Edward Nygma, but he also hugged the man! Be a shoulder for him to cry on! That wasn’t supposed to happen, Oswald hadn’t planned that. What had possessed him to do that!? Had he finally lost his mind completely? The flutter in his chest… that was a familiar feeling he thought he had forgotten. Killed, even. He thought he was immune to that by now! He had closed his heart, looked it securely, and kept the key buried so deep that no one would ever find it! He couldn't be falling for that human, could he? Not again! Not after all the pain he experienced with Jim Gordon. Hadn't he learned his lesson!? Sure, it felt wonderful when it was all good and perfect. His relationship with Jim was loving and tender, they depended on one another for the short time they were together. It made Oswald feel stronger, happy for the first time in his life. But then… then everything went terribly wrong. Love was a weakness. Love was dangerous. There was a solid reason for Oswald’s caution when it came to matters of the heart. He still remembered his foolishness back then and he couldn’t allow for that to happen again. 

  
  


_ “What’s the matter? You look sad,” Jim noted one night.  _

 

_ Oswald snuggled closer to his beloved and finally voiced the concerns that had been haunting him for some time now. “You’re human, Jim. Your lifespan is shorter than mine. That means you’re going to grow old and eventually die while I have to keep living,” his throat was closing at the thought. “I don’t even want to imagine losing you.”  _

 

_ “I’m not dying yet,” Jim chuckled and pressed a kiss to Oswald’s forehead.  _

 

_ Oswald sighed, leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. Jim’s forehead kisses always had that wonderful calming effect on him. Only Jim knew how to soothe him, make him focus. “I know,” he finally said. “And I hope it doesn’t happen soon at all. But the thought of it still terrifies me.”  _

 

_ Jim looked at him fondly, then grinned. “Let’s enjoy whatever time we have together then. Before I kick the bucket.”  _

 

_ Oswald pulled away to stare at him with wide eyes. “How can you joke about this?”  _

 

_ Jim stroke his cheek gently and smiled at him with a little shrug. “What else is there to do? It’s life. That’s how most humans cope with mortality.”  _

 

_ “I don’t understand humans,” Oswald sighed. “If I were faced with the prospect of such a short lifespan I would’ve spent it all trying to figure out a way to prolong it.”  _

 

_ “Then it would be a life wasted,” Jim said softly. “You should find the time to  _ **_actually live_ ** _. Not just find ways to breathe another day.”  _

 

_ Oswald supposed Jim’s words made sense. Quality over quantity and all that. Yet Oswald couldn’t let this go, he couldn’t accept it. It was easier for Jim to live with his mortality, he wasn’t the one who had to bury the only love in his life when the time came. However, Oswald… Oswald would have to live centuries without Jim. That was cruel. What was even the point in that? So he spent more and more time reading all the books on magic he could get his hands on, all the ones he hid away from the rest of Gotham, to find the perfect spell. And eventually he found it. All he had to do now was get Jim’s permission to actually use it.   _

 

_ For the occasion he prepared a special dinner. It was supposed to be what humans called a date. A form of courtship, Jim had explained to him awhile ago. They’ve been on several of those dates already and Oswald had to admit he quite enjoyed them. This one had to be even more special, however. Tonight Oswald was going to ask Jim a very important question.  _

 

_ “Jim? I have something to ask of you,” he said when he felt the time was right. He didn’t expect to be this nervous about it but too many things depended on Jim’s answer. “But you must promise to keep an open mind about it. It’s rather delicate…”  _

 

_ Jim smirked. “Whatever you want to try out, Oswald, I’m game,” he reassured.   _

 

_ “What? Oh! No, no, I wasn’t talking about  _ **_that_ ** _ ,” Oswald said, blushing rapidly. Jim was always so reassuring when it came to their intimacies in bed. It was charming and so thoughtful of him to always be so gentle with Oswald’s insecurities. “No, it’s about something else.”  _

 

_ Jim’s expression changed from playful to attentive. “Okay. What is it about?”   _

 

_ “Jim, I don’t want to lose you,” Oswald said, sounding quite vulnerable at that moment, the look in his eyes conveying the fear he felt so intensely.  _

 

_ “You’re not losing me, Oswald. I’m not going anywhere,” Jim reassured, wrapping his arms tightly around his beloved.  _

 

_ Oswald swallowed, accepting the embrace. “I’m not,” he said softly. “Because I found a way to prolong your life.”  _

 

_ Jim let go of Oswald and blinked confused. “What?”  _

 

_ “I found a spell that can give you life as long as any other Gothamite’s,” Oswald said with a sheepish smile. “You’ll live as long as me. Provided we don’t get killed.” He let out a breathless little chuckle.  _

 

_ Jim still seemed quite perturbed. “Oswald… that’s very thoughtful of you, but… Is that why you’ve been so tense and tired these last few weeks? You were working on that spell?”  _

 

_ Typical Jim, trying to change the topic and have control over the conversation when he wasn’t sure how to react.  _

 

_ “That doesn’t matter, Jim. What matters is, will you let me do the spell?” He was holding his breath, waiting for Jim’s reply, desperately hoping that Jim would say ‘yes’. The mere prospect of  _ **_ever_ ** _ losing Jim was too terrifying for him to live with. He’d lost his mother already, his entire race of people eliminated from the face of Gotham on a whim. He’d lost so much already, he couldn’t lose the one person most dear to him. Being a human Jim could live to the age of 80 - 100, 120 at the most. And that would be in the best possible scenario. For a human that might seem like a long time, but after Jim’s 100 years Oswald would still be alive and in his prime with many centuries in front of him (provided no one killed him, of course). How would he ever exist without Jim? What reason would he have to keep being alive without his beloved? Jim had to say ‘yes’. He had to!  _

 

_ “Tell me more about that spell,” Jim finally said. It wasn’t a straight ‘no’ so that was a good start! “What does it do exactly? How do you cast it? Are there any side effects? Tell me it won’t require a human sacrifice or something like that.”   _

 

_ Encouraged, Oswald explained everything very thoroughly, showing Jim all the necessary texts and ingredients, explaining the entire procedure. He didn’t hold any detail back. He owed it to Jim to be entirely truthful with him and that was exactly what he did. Then he waited. Jim was the one who had to decide here; the decision wasn’t Oswald's to make.   _

 

_ Jim was tempted, that much Oswald could tell. He was deep in thought, hesitating. Oswald could imagine what was going on in Jim’s mind. No doubt he felt agreeing to Oswald’s spell would be like cheating Death. Oswald himself was more than happy to cheat Death as long as he had Jim by his side! Jim, however, with his notions of always following the rules and maintaining the order, was not so sure if it was right that he as a human would ever live that long. It didn’t seem quite natural.  _

 

_ Oswald let him think this through, gave him all the time he needed. It was an important decision, after all. One that Jim could not take back. He didn’t want to rush Jim into something he might later regret. He wouldn’t want Jim to blame him for it. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it if Jim was angry at him, or hated him. So he remained quiet, waiting patiently for Jim’s verdict. And then when Jim finally consented Oswald felt like the happiest person in the world! First he pulled Jim into a tight embrace, peppering his face with kisses, then he pressed their foreheads together and breathed in deeply.  _

 

_ “Now we can always be together!” he whispered with relief. “I love you, Jim.”  _

 

_ “I love you too, Oswald.”   _

  
  


Oswald swallowed. The dull ache was back in his heart, the memories of Jim still fresh even after all this time. He could not let this happen to him again. He could not allow himself to fall in love and be reduced to that vulnerable weak mess one more time. He couldn't be falling in love with Edward, it was out of the question! There must have been another reason why he felt so comfortable around the human. Maybe it had something to do with why Edward was suddenly zapped in Gotham even though Penguin had personally closed all interdimensional portals. Well, nearly all… Perhaps there was some kind of connection between them. Ed landing in Gotham like that was not a coincidence. Coincidences did not just happen. Oswald needed more information to figure out what really happened. The sooner the enigma of Edward Nygma was solved, the better.  

 

He called for Zsasz. Zsasz had been assigned with discovering more about Nygma since the moment Penguin found out there was a new human lose in Gotham. So the King wanted to see how that was progressing.  

 

“Nothing new since last time,” Zsasz said. “But while the human was in the elven city Barbara Kean spent a lot of time with him.  _ Alone _ . So I’m currently looking into that.” He took pride in having eyes and ears everywhere. It would be a child’s play to find out what Barbara was up to with that human. Although Zsasz already had a pretty good idea what it might have been. He smirked at the King. “D’you suppose they were doing it?”  

 

“ **What** !?” 

 

“Y’know. Getting nasty together? Doing it human-style? Exchanging notes on interspecies bedroom acrobatics?” 

 

“ _Interspecies?_ Zsasz, what are you _talking_ about!?” Penguin exclaimed. “Humans are _not_ _another species_! They’re just a different race.” 

 

Zsasz shrugged. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m cool with interspecies anything. I’m just glad to find Barbara’s dirty laundry. We all know she has a thing for humans,” he winked.  

 

“That’s not--” Penguin groaned but then quickly grabbed a hold of himself. He exhaled sharply and proceeded in a calmer tone. “That’s not very likely, Zsasz. The only man Barbara Kean would ever be interested in is Jim Gordon. Otherwise she’s all about women.” 

 

“Good point,” Zsasz nodded. “Can’t blame her, though. Jim Gordon  _ is  _ good-looking.” 

 

“I don’t care, Victor!” The King cried out in frustration. “Go find out more about Edward! That’s the priority now! Find out what he was doing alone with Barbara all this time. It could be the key to discovering why he was zapped into Gotham in the first place.”  

 

Zsasz furrowed his bald eyebrows together. “You believe him?” 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“When the human said he had no idea how he got here, that he was just zapped in Gotham. You believe that?” 

 

“I--” Oswald was a little flustered at that. “Why would he lie about it?” 

 

“I dunno. But trusting him so quickly feels wrong to me,” Zsasz said with his typical straightforwardness. 

 

Oswald swallowed. “Then find proof of what else could have happened and bring it to me.” 

 

The elf gave a reassuring nod and hurried off to do his job.  

 

Oswald remained alone at his desk. He frowned, thinking about Zsasz’ words. His right-hand assassin thought Oswald was too trusting of Ed. Perhaps that was true but he wouldn’t want others to see it. Was he that obvious in his favoritism for the human? Zsasz had noticed, maybe others did too. Of course, Zsasz was a lot more observant than the average Gothamite, yet Oswald decided to be more careful in the future. He didn’t need any unwanted rumors spreading throughout Gotham. He knew he could trust Zsasz and Olga to not give away any information about him, but he couldn’t be too careful about who else might be keeping an eye on his Castle. Spies were everywhere. Same with traitors. Making them believe Edward was important to Oswald in some way would put the human in danger and Oswald wanted to avoid that. So far his subjects assumed the King wanted the human close to himself so that no one else would have him. To spite Barbara Kean and show everyone he had the absolute power in Gotham. There was no need for anyone to question Oswald’s actual interest in Edward. Especially since Oswald himself wasn’t yet sure what his interest in Edward Nygma really was. 

 

Giving Zsasz more precise orders for what he needed to look for calmed the King down a little bit. At least he no longer felt like a sitting duck. Zsasz worked fast. He would soon return with more answers and in the meantime all Penguin had to do was keep his distance from the human until he knew for sure what he was doing here in Gotham. It appeared like an easy enough task but why was it so difficult to do? Penguin paced in his room anxiously, trying to fight the urge to go looking for Edward. Did he really crave the man’s company that badly that he would neglect his own good reason? He tried to ignore his desires and concentrated on his work instead. However, his mind kept wandering in the same persistent direction -- Edward Nygma. What he was doing now? What new puzzles he’d enjoy and what riddles were on his mind? What books was he reading? What new thoughts were in his head? What were his opinions? What did he think about the Castle? What did he think about Penguin…? 

 

Keeping away proved a great challenge for the King but he managed to will himself into staying in his study the entire afternoon. Zsasz would return with the necessary information soon and then Penguin would know what to do for sure. If Edward was telling the truth. If Edward was dangerous. If Oswald could continue to enjoy Edward’s company like he did until now, or if he would be forced to lock Edward away in the dungeons of the Iceberg Castle… He sincerely hoped his gut feeling to trust Edward wasn’t wrong. 

 

~*~ 

 

After what happened in the garden Edward was very perplexed. Penguin listened to him, he showed surprising compassion, and afterwards he even comforted Ed. No one had ever done that before. That was a huge thing for him. Penguin and Ed were bonding and it felt really good. There was something there for sure. Edward wasn’t sure what but for some reason he felt connected to the King, somehow. Like they were kindred spirits, united in their pain. Edward liked to think he had befriended Barbara, too, but his friendship with her was far from what he felt when he was with the King. He never felt so understood and at ease around Barbara as he did with Penguin. It was unnerving to feel something he could not explain logically, so he was glad that the King didn’t show up the next day, or the day after that. It gave Ed time to collect his thoughts and make sense of things. He did not make sense of anything, though. Uncertain if he would even find an answer soon, Edward decided to dwell on other things instead. Things he knew and understood better. Things like books. 

 

The library was one of Ed’s favorite places in the entire Castle -- right after the secret garden he was recently introduced to. Penguin’s library was  _ amazing _ ! There were books on all kinds of topics and any of them caught Edward’s attention. Books had special power over him back home but Ed suspected they had an even greater power here in Gotham. After all, it was a book that brought him here and it was a book he was struggling to summon and control. One thing was sure, in Gotham books were magical both metaphorically and literally. And while he never expected to find any  _ actual  _ magic in the library, (any spell books Penguin might or might not possess would definitely be hidden somewhere more secure, not lying around on a shelf for everyone to see), there were still lots of books on Gotham, Gotham’s history, and Gotham life as a whole. Things he never learned back on Earth, things that Barbara didn’t get the chance to tell him. Here, in this library, Edward was like a curious sponge, eager to absorb all the knowledge available. He was like a kid in a candy store.  

 

Immersed in his readings, Ed didn’t even hear when the King entered the library until the goblin cleared his throat and spoke. 

 

“You do love your books, don’t you, Edward?” Penguin observed, limping among the bookshelves to smile at Ed. 

 

“Your Majesty!” Ed gasped surprised. He didn’t expect to see the King today. Not that he was disappointed… only confused. 

 

“It’s alright, Edward. I didn’t mean to startle you,” the King said. 

 

“You didn’t! I’m glad you’re here.” As he said the words he realized he truly meant them. It wasn’t just a way to escape his solitude, he wouldn’t want just  _ anybody’s  _ company. And he didn’t feel lonely when he was alone, he found plenty of interesting activities to occupy his time and gathered so much curious information without being bothered by anyone. But he was glad the King was with him now. Not just because he wanted company, but because he wanted  _ Penguin’s  _ company in particular. Penguin was interesting. Penguin was a riddle. Penguin made Ed feel things he hadn’t felt before. Yes, Ed was glad to see the King. He hadn’t realized it earlier but he had actually  _ missed  _ the King for those two days he hadn’t been around. “You are right,” he proceeded, glad to share his opinion with the goblin once again. “Books are a great way to escape for me.” 

 

The King arched an eyebrow. “You want to escape, Ed?” 

 

“What…? Oh! No! Not what I meant,” Ed corrected quickly. “Not a literal escape, just… When I was back on Earth I’d often feel the world was unfair and cruel? So I opened a book. And it made things so much better.” 

 

Penguin nodded. “I can understand that.” 

 

“Besides, all the knowledge!” Ed exclaimed in awe. “Knowing things is like an armor. No one can harm you if you have the right information.” 

 

A soft smile spread across the King’s face and he hummed in agreement. “That is precisely so. Information is very important.” He took a few steps closer to where Ed was sitting, leaning heavily on his cane. “Of course, there are many books that don’t give practical knowledge yet I find very enjoyable to read.” 

 

Ed looked at him with a curious smile. “Oh? Such as?”  

 

“You’ll think it funny but I’ve always loved Andersen’s fairy tales.” 

 

Edward chuckled, unable to contain the sudden wave of fondness that was rising in his chest. “You’re right. That  _ is  _ funny.” 

 

“Now don’t tease me, Edward!” Penguin replied just as amused. 

 

“How could I not? You gave me such good ammunition,” Ed grinned. 

 

“I did…” he cleared his throat. “My mother often used to read Andersen’s fairy tales to me when I was a child.” he added with a faraway look on his face. Edward suspected he was mentally transported back to that memory of his mother reading to him. Who knew the King had such a rich inner world! Ed was fascinated once again. 

 

“They’re good. But most of them are really sad,” Edward said, no longer willing to tease. 

 

“That’s true. But there’s beauty in their sadness. I think that’s what my mother loved about them so much,” Penguin replied and even though his eyes were a little watery he still smiled at Ed. 

 

“Do you have a favorite one? A favorite fairy tale?” the human asked curiously.  

 

The King took a moment to think. “I haven’t really thought about that in so long.” he confessed. “But I always enjoyed _ The Wild Swans _ more than the rest.” 

 

“A great sacrifice made by a loving heart,” Edward smiled, remembering the premise of that particular fairy tale. “It is a beautiful story indeed.” 

 

Penguin cleared his throat. “But I doubt fairy tales is what you need at this moment, Edward.” 

 

“Oh, I like fairy tales. I enjoy fiction and fantasy as much as I enjoy science.” 

 

“And most of all you like riddles,” the King teased. Ed could not deny it. “However, I have something else for you today and I suspect you’d like it much more,” he said with a clever smirk. 

 

It teased Edward’s curiosity and he grinned at the King. “What do you have in mind?” 

 

“How do you feel about being blindfolded?” 

 

Edward was puzzled for a moment, not expecting that question. “I’m not sure, really. Why do you ask?” 

 

“If you let me blindfold you now, I can take you to a place in the Castle you’ve never been before. And I assure you, you're going to love what you find in there.” 

 

That was a tempting proposition. Edward was filled with curiosity and desire to learn more about the Castle. He had explored a great deal of it on his own, yet there were so many places that only the King knew about, secret exciting places Ed really wanted to see. Yet, being blindfolded seemed a bit extreme. Even though Ed was inclined to trust the King, he was also aware that this could all be just a clever way to trap and outsmart him, to lower Ed’s defenses and then strike when Ed least expect it, when Ed was powerless. 

 

“I can see you’re not sure,” Penguin said, only slightly disappointed. “That’s alright. You don’t have to. It was just a silly idea anyway.” He turned around, ready to leave when Ed called after him. 

 

“No, wait! … I want to see that special place! Blindfold me, please.” 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

Edward nodded. “Yes.” 

 

Penguin gave a calm silent nod and slowly pulled out a purple scarf from his inside breast pocket. The soft material slipped elegantly through his fingers as he approached the human. Edward closed his eyes and held his breath, preparing himself for the blindfold. He had no idea why this suddenly got him bubbling with excitement but it did. 

 

The King gently placed the scarf over Ed’s eyes. “Relax,” he said comfortingly. “What I’m about to show you isn’t dangerous. This blindfold is just a precaution. All will be clear to you very soon.” 

 

Edward nodded silently and waited with poorly hidden excitement. When the scarf was securely tied behind his head, covering his eyes, Ed felt Penguin take his hand. 

 

“Follow me,” the goblin said and led the way. 

 

Edward followed, smiling as he did so. Whatever the King wanted to show him, it had to be pretty neat if Edward was required to wear a blindfold before getting there. Not to mention that if the blindfold was a precaution (as the King said) then that place had to be another secret the King was trusting him with! Either that, or it was all an elaborate way for the King to kill him. Which was very unlikely, in Edward’s opinion, but still a possibility. Which one was it remained to be seen. 


	14. Chapter XIV: Close Your Eyes to See Me

“Are you nervous, Edward?” The King’s voice came from his left. It sounded confident, unwavering. 

 

Edward, in contrast, felt jittery and twitchy. “I haven’t been blindfolded before,” he said in lieu of an explanation. “It’s a bit unnerving walking with your eyes closed.” 

 

“Don’t you trust me, Edward?” that silky voice asked softly. 

 

Edward swallowed. What was going on here? They kept walking, passing through corridors, halls and stairs Edward couldn’t recognize without his eyesight. “I’m not sure,” he replied honestly. “I want to trust you, Your Majesty. In fact, I thought I did.” 

 

“Oh? What changed?” 

 

“You blindfolded me.” 

 

“Ah,” the King chuckled. “That’s just a precaution, I told you that.” 

 

“If you don’t trust me with the location of wherever you’re taking me, how can you expect me to trust you in return?” 

 

“That’s just it, though, Edward. That’s where you misunderstood,” the King said. His hand was still on Edward’s forearm, a gentle touch that guided him in the darkness. “The precaution is not against you,” he continued. “I have many enemies and each one of them would stop at nothing to get to me. If they knew you had information, they’d torture you for it until you either talked or died. So, you see, Edward, it’s far better if you stay ignorant, only knowing answers to questions they would never think to ask you.  _ That’s _ why I blindfolded you.” Edward was silent, processing. “I’m not your enemy, Ed. I know they’ve told you so but it’s not true. I’m protecting you. From those who use you, from those who’d want to use you, from those who’d hurt or kill you. I am your defender, you should not be afraid of me. Edward Nygma, if I wanted you to suffer, I would never do it in some  _ backhanded  _ way. If  _ you  _ and _ I  _ are ever at odds, you will know without a doubt that  _ I  _ am  _ your  _ enemy. I promise you that,” there was a slight wavering to Penguin’s voice as he added, “... as a  _ friend _ .” 

 

Edward nearly stopped walking at that. A promise like this was… well, it meant a lot, no doubt, and it was almost too overwhelming. He opened his mouth to say something in return but was quickly interrupted by the King who stopped them in one place. 

 

“And I can freely say this to you now because I know who you are, Edward Nygma.” He leaned in a little to whisper in Ed’s ear. “You’re the _ Riddle Master _ . And  _ that’s  _ why you’re in Gotham.” 

 

Ed’s small gasp of surprise did not go unnoticed because Penguin chuckled amused. 

 

“Ah-ah-ah. No need to deny it,” he said, giving Ed’s hand a light tap. “I know for a fact that it’s true.” 

 

Edward inhaled sharply. He was still blindfolded and standing motionless like a naughty schoolboy about to be punished by the headmaster. It frustrated him how utterly helpless he suddenly felt. 

 

“I don’t deny it,” he said with feeling. “But I myself don’t really understand what being the Riddle Master means.” 

 

Penguin let out a little hum and Ed heard him limp in a circle around him. He had to admit a part of him was slightly hurt. Was that the only reason the King was so nice to him recently? Because he had discovered Edward’s secret powers as the “Riddle Master”? Did he know Edward had no control over the Book and couldn’t even summon it? Would he still be nice to him when he found out Ed was powerless and wouldn’t be able to cooperate? Was Penguin just using him to get to the power of the book? Or was Ed just another magical artefact, locked safely away in Penguin’s possession? 

 

Penguin took in a deep breath. His smile was gone, or at least so Edward assumed from the tone of his voice. “I must admit I didn’t expect it,” the King continued, stopping in front of Ed again. 

 

He was facing him, observing his face even though Ed could not see him with that blasted blindfold covering his eyes! His hands were free, he could take it off easily, no one was there to stop him, he and the King were all alone. Yet, something prevented Ed from doing that. He gave a promise. He didn’t want to break it. 

 

He felt the heat of the King’s body getting closer so the King had obviously taken another step towards Ed. “I knew there was a reason Barbara wanted you so badly, he said, “but I honestly thought it was just to hold you against me, to prepare you for something. To annoy me. That woman is full of insane plans and she really hates me.” He tsked. “But apparently that’s not the entirety of her scheme. When Zsasz told me this morning about who you really were… well, I was nearly stunned. I should’ve seen it coming but I didn’t think it possible after all this time.” 

 

_ This morning _ , Edward thought frantically. So he  _ hadn't  _ known before! All those moments they’ve shared, them befriending one another, the comforting and the bonding, all that was genuine! It wasn’t just to make a fool out of Ed or use him! It was real! It truly meant something? 

 

“But now I know the truth. I know Barbara’s been teaching you magic,” Penguin sighed audibly. “No wonder one of the first things you were so curious about when we met was magic. Is that what you were after? You wanted to harvest more power? To find my “secret stash of magic” and feast on it?” 

 

The last words sounded rather mockingly and Ed couldn’t help but roll his eyes under the blindfold. 

 

“I wanted to know more about magic, that’s true,” he admitted calmly. “And I was pretty sure this Castle had more secrets than one might expect. I was positive you had magic stored somewhere safely away from the rest of Gotham. But I did not come here to “harvest” anything. I already told you I don’t fully understand the whole Riddle Master thing. I was still trying to figure it out when you invited us to the Castle. I was hoping here I’d find more information about magic that would help me make sense of this.” 

 

There was a long silence. For a moment Ed wondered if the King had not somehow disappeared, leaving Ed talking to himself. But that was insane. 

 

“Is that all?” Penguin finally asked. 

 

“I… also prefer to be called the Riddler,” Ed added. He wasn’t sure if now was the time but it was rather important to him so he might as well mention it. He was really fond of that name. 

 

Penguin chuckled. “Riddler? I never would’ve guessed. So,  _ Riddler _ , are you ready for what I’ve got prepared for you?” 

 

Ed swallowed. “You said you were my friend. Was that a lie?” 

 

The King leaned in to whisper in his ear again, “What do you think?” 

 

The blindfold was off and Edward realized he was standing in the middle of a dungeon. A dungeon full of books and strange peculiar objects! Magic!  

 

“Is this…?” 

 

“My secret stash of magic,” Penguin said with an amused little smirk on his face as he limped to stand theatrically in front of his impressive collection. “One of many secret chambers. I believe you would find it… entertaining. Or am I wrong?” 

 

“You’re not wrong at all!” Ed gasped in awe. “There’s so many books in here! And the objects are enchanted too, I assume?” 

 

“Every single thing in this chamber is a bearer of magic or has at some point been in contact with magic.” 

 

“And it’s all for me?” Ed gaped. 

 

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the King said quickly, chuckling nervously. “I’m not giving you all this. I’m… allowing you access.” He waddled to Ed’s side and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re one of us now, Edward. You belong here, in Gotham. Perhaps you belonged here even when you were back home on Earth.” 

 

Edward shook his head, not looking away from the magical hoard in front of him. “That place was never a home to me, even though I lived there for so long.” 

 

The King nodded. “I understand. In that case, welcome home.” 

 

~*~ 

 

Edward spent the next couple of hours going through the pages of books and letting out excited exclamations as he made a note of everything of interest. Which was basically everything in the room. 

 

“These are amazing! So detailed!” he gasped from one of the top shelves he had climbed on. “Although some are in a language I don’t yet know… but I’m sure I’ll find a way to learn it! There must be a book for that too somewhere in here…” 

 

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll find everything you need, Edward. Yet there’s something else we should discuss at some point. If you’d let me.” 

 

Penguin sounded rather exasperated and Ed realized he had completely ignored the King in his enthusiasm to take in all the magical knowledge that was revealed to him. 

 

He jumped down to the stone floor again and hung his head a little. “I’m sorry. I completely zoned out, didn’t I? It’s just… so amazing!” 

 

“I know. But we should also focus,” Penguin said. He was leaning heavily on his cane and Edward was struck with the sudden realization that with all the walking and standing that day he must be in pain. What if Edward found--? 

 

His train of thought was interrupted by the King. 

 

“I said we need to  _ focus _ , Edward,” he reminded, snapping his fingers in front of Ed’s face. “Are you kidding me right now?” 

 

“Umm, no, not at all. Sorry. I was just thinking… with all the magic we have here at our disposal--” 

 

“It’s  _ my  _ magic.  _ I  _ have it at  _ my  _ disposal, but go on,” the King rolled his eyes. 

 

“-- why don’t you fix your leg? Or at least make it not hurt you so much,” Ed suggested. He was rather proud of his idea. It was a genuinely good idea, after all. And it was thoughtful too. Perhaps all this time the King couldn’t find the right spell to fix his injury but now with Edward’s help he would finally be able to have a pain-free existence! It was magnificent! The King, however, did not seem impressed. In fact, he looked rather frustrated. 

 

“That’s not what we’re here for! Why are you even thinking about my leg!?” 

 

“It was just-- I’ve seen you flinch when you step on it. I see you leaning on your cane more heavily when you’ve walked longer… I assumed--” 

 

“Well,  _ stop assuming _ !” Penguin cried out in anger. “This doesn’t concern you! My leg is  _ my  _ leg and I know what to do with it!” 

 

Ed was silent, taken aback by the sudden outburst. The King looked both furious and hurt, and frankly Ed expected him to break something. But he didn’t. Instead he slowly calmed down and when he spoke again it was softer.  

 

“You really think if there was a way to fix it, I wouldn't have already tried it?” He looked up and when their eyes met Ed saw the hurt in the King’s eyes. “My injury will be my constant companion for as long as I live. I’ve made peace with that. You should do the same and not concern yourself with it.” 

 

Ed gave a curt nod. “Duly noted,” he assured in low baritone.  

 

The King blinked rather rapidly and sucked in a sharp breath. “Good. Then we can proceed.” He turned his back to Edward and walked to the nearby antique china cabinet. There were a few intricate objects exposed inside it and he took his time to look at them all. “I assume you don’t yet know how to use your talents?” 

 

Ed shook his head. “No. Unfortunately. I can’t even summon the book.” 

 

Penguin smiled to himself at those words. He had never mentioned knowing anything about the book, Ed could have easily suppressed this information from him but he didn’t. That was a good sign. 

 

“You want to though?” he asked instead, turning around again to examine Ed’s face. 

 

“I do. I feel it would give me purpose. There’s so much about me that I still don’t know. I want to see what I’m capable of, what I can do.” 

 

Penguin nodded approvingly. “I’d like to help you with that, if you allow it. I can see you as you are, Edward, who you can become. I feel with my help you could do really great things in Gotham.” 

 

“You want to teach me magic?” Ed repeated slowly, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Surprising as it may seem, I have a much bigger experience with magic than Barbara. I could be a better teacher to you than her.” 

 

Ed thought about it. “Why would you want to help me? You could easily just hold me captive here. Or kill me, even. Anything. You have all the cards, all the power in this situation. Why would you still show me kindness?” 

 

It appeared the King hesitated with his answer, as if he wasn’t sure if he should say what was on his mind. Then finally he took a step forward and looked Ed in the eyes. 

 

“Because I want us to be friends,” he said and his words sounded so sincere Ed was nearly stunned. “I’d like to have you as my friend, Edward. These last weeks were nice. I really enjoyed your company, I’ve grown slightly fond of you even. I like having you around, I like being your friend. I think we’d both benefit from that much more than if I simply killed or enslaved you. Don’t you think?”  

 

Ed chuckled. “I definitely agree. I’m just surprised you feel the same too.” 

 

“So what do you say? Will we help each other?” The King extended his hand to Edward, a sheepish smile on his face.  

 

A bunch of thoughts ran through Ed’s head. Most of them had to do with Barbara. He had promised her to help defeat Penguin. She brought him to the Castle for a reason, he was supposed to be  _ her  _ man inside the Iceberg Lounge, he had agreed to that. But he didn’t think the King would become his friend. He didn’t think he’d be facing a choice like that. He wished to agree, yet a part of him felt guilty. Then another thought slithered into his head, as if placed there by a foreign mind. He could turn this around. He could use Penguin’s friendship now to access his magical abilities, and then if needed betray the King. He could choose the winning side as the battle progressed. It was never late. What Penguin suggested to him, his proposition, was too good to be rejected. Ed needed this. Ed came to this castle for that specific purpose. He also really,  _ really  _ enjoyed the King’s company. He wanted to learn more from that goblin, he wanted to get to know him even more. He wanted his friendship. Barbara could wait. Barbara was out of the equation now. 

  
Before he could think too much of it Ed reached out and shook the King’s hand. “I say  _ yes _ .” 


	15. Chapter XV: The Friends We Have and the Friends We See

“Summoning the Book of Riddles is important, of course, but that in itself should not be your goal.” 

 

Ed frowned. “That’s not what Barbara used to say. She made it sound like summoning the Book was the whole point, that it would unleash my magic.” 

 

“Yes, of course she’d say that,” the King visibly suppressed an eyeroll. “But she has different reasons for it. Trust me, summoning the Book will happen in its own time. What you first need to do, however, is discover the magic within you.” 

 

Edward hesitated. “How do I even know it’s there?” he asked rather uncertain. 

 

Penguin smiled and there was surprising warmth in his eyes. He placed a hand on the human’s shoulder. “I assure you, it’s there,” he said softly. “How do you think the Book chose you?” 

 

“Randomly…?” Ed guessed. It was a question he had often asked himself too. “I honestly don’t know. I assumed it somehow knows and then bestows magical powers over whoever it chooses.” 

 

“That’s not exactly true,” Penguin sat more comfortably on the bench. They were in the Secret White Lily Garden again. It had become a preferred place for both of them so they often spent their time there. “The Book chooses, that is true. But it is also called. You call the Book and it chooses you.” 

 

Edward sighed. “I don’t get it,” he shook his head. “How can it be both?” 

 

“It can,” the King reassured. “I understand it sounds like a contradiction, but it’s a matter of reciprocity. How do I explain this…?” he wondered out loud. “The Book is fueled by the magic within you. It senses it. Your magic brings the Book to life and in return the Book chooses you to be its master. Without your magic the Book is helpless and almost useless. You said yourself that Barbara told you about the contradictions this magic holds. That the Book is both ancient and new, powerful and weak?” Edward nodded. “It’s the same with its power. That’s how its magic works. Like a puzzle and you’re the Wielder of Riddles, Master of Puzzles.” 

 

“Riddler,” Ed corrected. “I really prefer Riddler.” 

 

“Of course. Riddler,” the King allowed with a smile. “Do my words throw some light on the matter, Riddler?” 

 

Ed gave it some thought. “I think so. What you’re saying is that the Book of Riddles and I are like two pieces of the same puzzle. We’re bound together, interconnected and linked. And we get strength from one another?”  

 

The King seemed quite pleased with what he was hearing. “Exactly! See? You got this. The magic’s inside you.” His hand slid down to rest on top of Edward’s chest where his heart was. A light touch, hardly felt, yet definitely  _ there _ . “It’s in your heart.” 

 

Edward swallowed, feeling his cheeks heating up at the King’s proximity. He had no idea why. All he knew was that there was something very intimate about them at this moment and it felt quite pleasant but also new and unfamiliar. “I see,” he said, voice a little rasp. “And how do I control it?” 

 

“You don’t.” The King removed his hand, putting more distance between them again. Ed felt slightly disappointed at the loss. “Magic doesn’t work by force, Edward. You need to find your center, to reach deep down and discover that you and your magic are one. It’s not a matter of controlling it, it’s a matter of getting in touch with it. It’s an extension of you, a part of you much like your limbs.” 

 

“Barbara tried to make me feel it but I couldn’t. I-- I failed.” He sighed, shoulders slumping as he let his long hands dangle free at each side of his legs. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid I’m not a good student when it comes to practical magic.” 

 

Penguin was silent for a long moment. Edward wondered how long until the King gave up on him, too. Barbara seemed ready to give up on him by the middle of their training and Edward actually put so much effort back then. He felt so hopeless. Even if the King was right and there was some magic hidden inside him, it was so deep down Edward could hardly reach it, let alone “get in touch” with it. He had to face it, he was a lost cause. The Book of Riddles clearly made a mistake to trust his inner magic. 

 

He was pulled out of his grim thoughts by the King’s voice. “Edward, why do you think I showed you the secret chambers where I store all that magic?” 

 

Ed glanced at the goblin, not expecting the question. “Umm, you want to help me with my magic? Because we’re friends? Because you thought I’d actually be good at this?” 

 

“Because I trust you,” the King corrected. “And do you have any idea how many people I’ve truly trusted in my entire life?” 

 

Edward shook his head. He couldn’t know. 

 

“A total of four,” Penguin replied. “Two of them are dead. One of them hurt me pretty badly.” 

 

“And the other one?” Ed asked, curious about these people who managed to earn the King’s trust. He assumed the first two were the his parents. He had no idea who the other two were. 

 

“The other one is… he’s not important for this conversation. What matters now is that you have my trust. I feel connected to you, somehow. And that is  _ very  _ rare, Edward. The fact that it happened already proves your magical abilities.” 

 

Ed chuckled. “That’s all very sweet and dandy to say, Your Majesty, but it can hardly teach me how to actually  _ do  _ magic.” 

 

“It will, in time,” Penguin reassured. “I’ll help you find your center. We’ll figure it out together. There’s no rush. Don’t stress yourself too much. But as a start, perhaps you could stop calling me Your Majesty? It’s just the two of us and we are friends, aren’t we?” 

 

Edward nodded. “So what should I call you? King Penguin? Mr. King? Mr. Penguin?” 

 

The King looked amused. “Just Penguin is good enough.” 

 

“Alright. Penguin,” Ed grinned. The King always managed to make him feel special. It was very peculiar. The warning voice in his head reminded him that he had to remain alert, that this could still be some kind of a trap. Yet, a part of him couldn’t help but feel comfortable in the presence of the Goblin King. 

 

Penguin took his cane in hand and got up from the bench. “Now, that’s enough outdoors time, don’t you think? Let’s go back inside. It’s going to be sunrise soon.” 

 

Edward glanced at the horizon. The sun really was about to rise. “Oh, let’s stay and watch it! I bet it’d be beautiful!” 

 

The King shuffled nervously. “No, that’s not a good idea,” he shook his head. “It’s just a regular sunrise. There’s nothing special about it.” 

 

“But--”

 

“Come, Edward,” the King insisted. 

 

Edward was about to protest again but the King cut him off. “Do you want to practice your magic or not?” 

 

“Of course I want to.”  

 

“Then why waste time?” 

 

That was a good question. Logical. Why would Ed waste his time admiring a simple sunrise? It was very illogical. Penguin had a point so Edward nodded. “You’re right. I guess there’ll be other sunrises.” 

 

“Of course. Now, let’s make haste.” 

 

They were back in the castle in record time. If Ed didn’t know any better, he’d think the King was actually afraid of the sun. Which was absurd, he wasn’t a vampire or anything. The mere notion was ridiculous so Edward didn’t give it any further thought and decided to concentrate on his new magic lessons instead. With Penguin as his teacher perhaps he’d finally make progress and figure things out? 

 

~*~  

 

Barbara was fuming. “I hate that I have no news from him!” she groaned. “Penguin keeps him in that castle and I’ve no idea if his dead or alive.” 

 

“You’re too tense. You should relax,” Tabitha warned. Her hands were working Barbara’s back and shoulders, trying to release the tension there. She also gave her a few more tender caresses that were more suitable for a lover than a masseuse. Barbara ignored her this time though. “It got worse after Jim Gordon’s visit. You’ve been more stressed since then.” 

 

“What are you saying?” Barbara hissed. 

 

“I hope you don’t still have feelings for that man,” Tabitha said nonchalantly. She didn’t want to sound jealous, didn’t want to make a big deal of it. But she definitely wanted to know the truth. 

 

“The  _ only  _ feelings I have for Jim are contempt and disgust!” Barbara said firmly, pushing Tabitha’s hands off of herself and sitting up. 

 

“Babs, I didn’t--” 

 

She was interrupted by one of her amazons, showing up to inform them that Gabe had come to talk to them. 

 

“Show him in!” Barbara was instantly back on her feet, putting an airy robe over her body. “Perhaps he brings us news! I don’t even know what Penguin’s been up to with Nygma all that time but maybe Gabe knows something.” 

 

“You took Jim Gordon from Penguin, perhaps now Penguin wants to take Edward Nygma from you. An eye for an eye. A human for a  human.” 

 

Barbara glared at Tabitha. “You think this is funny?” 

 

“I think you’re putting yourself under too much stress.” She placed a hand on Barbara’s cheek and the elf leaned into the touch, closing her eyes, unafraid of showing how much she craved Tabitha’s affection. However, Gabe chose that moment to show up so they had to pull away and hear what he could offer. 

 

“Gabe! What news have you for us?” Barbara asked. 

 

Gabe hesitated. “I really don't wanna do this anymore, Lady Barbara. I might get in big trouble for speaking to you.” 

 

“I know that’s a possibility, Gabe, but remember why you’re doing this,” Barbara said, looking Gabe in the eyes. “Penguin will never trust you, he’ll always underestimate you. He gives each truly important task to that traitor Zsasz and uses you as nothing but muscle.” 

 

The troll nodded. “That is true… I’m loyal and he won’t even say thank you!” 

 

Barbara didn’t mention that Penguin never thanked anyone. She also didn’t point out the irony of Gabe’s own loyalty to Penguin since he was now here, giving them information about the King. Those were two unimportant details in the grand scheme of things. The more mistreated Gabe felt, the better for her. “Exactly, Gabe. He never even said thank you. Not even a pat on the back.” She shook her head with a tsk. 

 

Gabe exhaled rather loudly. “Thanks for reminding me why I’m doing this.” 

 

“Yes, you’re very welcome, Gabe,” Barbara said, masking her impatience masterfully. “Now, what are you doing here exactly? What did you come to tell us?” 

 

Gabe took a step closer and glanced around as if to check if they were alone. It was an unnecessary precaution since Barbara had already assured that no one would overhear them. Even if anyone  _ did  _ manage to sneak past Tabitha’s security, it would take a much more skillful person than Gabe to notice that person now. Still, she gave him that and waited. 

 

“The King is acting weird,” Gabe announced quietly.  

 

“Weird how?” Barbara asked, breath hitching. “What’s he doing?” 

 

“He seems distracted all the time. He is even less talkative than usual. He looks like he’s preoccupied with something else,” Gabe listed. “The only one he talks to, other than Zsasz and the cook, is that tall human.” 

 

Tabitha could sense Barbara’s heart skipping a beat. 

 

“Edward?” Barbara said. “Penguin  spends his time with Edward?” 

 

Gabe nodded. “Nearly all day long, until late in the night. I’ve seen them together many times. Usually from afar. They’re alone most of the time. Going to different places in the castle.” 

 

“Where in the castle!?” Barbara asked quickly, hungry for more information. She thrived on information, she needed it like air. In her defense, information was the true road to victory. 

 

Gabe shrugged regrettably. “Unfortunately, I don’t know. I just see them heading somewhere together and then they disappear.” 

 

Barbara pursed her lips, trying to control her disappointment and irritation. “Great help you are, Gabe,” she scolded. 

 

“Thank you,” Gabe smiled, truly happy to hear that. He did not understand her sarcasm but perhaps it was for the better. They still needed him on their side. 

 

“Perhaps you could do something even more helpful, then, Gabe,” Tabitha interjected.

 

Barbara looked at her curiously. “What do you have in mind?” 

 

Tabitha smirked. “You said it yourself that you’re worried about Nygma. This is your chance. Write to him.” 

 

Barbara narrowed her eyes at the suggestion. “But if Penguin finds out…” 

 

“Gabe can deliver the message. He can make sure Penguin doesn’t find out. Nygma won’t tell either because it would incriminate him. Receiving secret letters like that would be like admitting he works against the King. Penguin could turn him to stone for less.” 

 

“Tabby, you’re brilliant!” Barbara beamed. “I’ll write to him at once!” She hurried to get ink and paper. 

 

“What-- what’s happening?” Gabe asked, gaze following the excited elf-woman’s movements with puzzlement. 

 

“I’ll explain it to you, Gave,” Tabitha said, taking him by the arm and guiding him in the other direction to give Barbara some privacy while writing her letter to Edward. “We’re going to give you a piece of paper, a letter, and you need to give it to the tall human in the Iceberg Castle.” 

 

Gabe seemed very alarmed at the idea. “You want me to personally deliver a secret letter to a human in the castle? The King might find out!” 

 

“Ah, but you make sure he doesn’t,” Tabitha said with a little smile. 

 

“But… but the human will think the letter is from me!” Gabe continued, still agitated. 

 

Tabitha suppressed a groan and tried to use the calm tone of voice Barbara usually used with people like Gabe. “If you’re so concerned about blowing your cover, then just make sure the human gets the letter. You can put it in his room if you must. Anywhere he can easily find it. But make sure he gets it and no one else saw it. Do you understand?” 

 

After a few moments of hesitation, Gabe finally surrendered and gave a nod. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll do it. But it is very risky.” 

 

Barbara returned with the letter in hand. “We know, Gabe. And we think you’re very brave and clever to do this for us!” 

 

Gabe smiled. “Really? You think that?” 

 

Barbara put a hand on Gabe’s arm. “Definitely!” she reassured, slipping the letter in the troll’s hands and clasping them together. “Gotham’s fate is in your strong hands,” she said with feeling. 

 

Gabe suddenly felt very important, very brave. Like a valiant knight. He smiled at Barbara and Tabitha with gratitude. “You two are the only ones that treat me nice. You’re good people.” 

 

Tabitha’s mouth twitched a little so she bit her lower lip and looked away, not wanting to listen to Gabe’s praise. They were not “good people” to him. They were using him, it was clear as day, yet the big goon was too stupid to realize and thought they were actually friends. It was fine to use him, it wasn’t fine to play with his feelings. Tabitha hated that she cared. She shouldn’t care. Being ruthless had always been the better strategy. She glanced at Barbara. By the looks of it the elf was quite pleased with Gabe’s adoration, she didn’t mind it one bit. She was born to be adored, to be a queen. And Tabby loved that about her. Barbara had what it took to be a real leader, and Tabitha would die for her if she had to. That was how much she loved her. The urge to kiss Barbara was overwhelming but it had to wait. They had work to do. Feelings were not a priority, taking Gotham from Penguin was. 


	16. Chapter XVI: Inner Magic

“Are you sure the garden is the best place to practice magic? I don’t want to accidentally ruin something here…” Ed said self-consciously. The lily garden truly was beautiful. On top of that it had a special meaning for the King. Edward’s magic – if it even existed – was probably very unstable to only manage summoning the Book once and then lose it completely. It was unwise to unleash that potential havoc in one of the most peaceful places in the Castle.

“Where do you suggest we do this then?” The King asked.

Somewhere safer with nothing to break, Ed thought. “I assumed we’d be doing it in the dungeons.” he suggested out loud.

“Kinky,” the King chuckled.

The word was spoken so quietly Edward couldn’t hear him. “What?”

“Nothing,” the King waved it off quickly. “Edward, I believe in you. Even when you don’t believe in yourself. And if your magic ruins something in this garden, I’m sure your magic could also fix it afterwards.”

Ed’s eyes went wide. “You really think I could fix it if I break it?”

Penguin smiled. “I do. Now. Let’s start with something simple. Levitation.”

“So simple,” Ed sighed.

“I wish you were more confident in yourself, Ed. Where’s the cocky man I first met? The one who was ready to ransack the entire castle in search of excitement.”

“I wasn’t _that_ bad, was I?” Edward chuckled.

“No, you were that _good_. And you still are. Now, come on. Make this,” he gently placed a lily flower on the bench, “fly up in the air.”

Ed inhaled deeply. Make the flower levitate. Simple, simple.

“You’ve read a lot on levitation already. You know the theory,” the King reminded.

“My  theory is fine, it’s the practice that I suck at.”

“Well, with that attitude you’d suck at anything,” Penguin warned. “Tell me, Edward, do humans have subconscious?”

“Of course!”

“And how does that work?”

“It’s the part of the mind of which one is not fully aware but which influences one’s actions and feelings,” Ed

The King hummed. “It is also an impressive form of inner magic. Once trained a person’s subconscious could do nearly anything. You tell yourself you suck, it eventually goes to your subconscious. It doesn’t differentiate between positive and negative, it just does everything within its power to comply with your expectations. If you tell yourself you suck, the subconscious assumes that is what you apparently want so it makes sure you do actually suck. 

The word suck sounded strange coming from Penguin’s mouth. Edward ignored it since that wasn’t the point here.

“Are you making a parallel between my magic and my subconscious?”

“I am indeed,” Penguin nodded. “They’re similar, you see. Magic would eventually become a subconscious activity for you. A habit much like breathing or walking. So turn your expectations into your reality, Edward.”

“I know you’re knowledgeable about magic. How do you know so much about humans though? Was it Don Falcone or Jim Gordon who taught you?”

The King cleared his throat. “Like you, I dwell a lot in the theory but lack the practice,” he said.

It didn’t exactly answer Ed’s question but he allowed it. He wondered again about Jim Gordon but things were going so well with the King recently, he didn’t want to upset that. And somehow he knew that mentioning Jim Gordon would make the King sad.

“Okay. Let’s do this! From expectation to reality!” Ed announced and concentrated hard on the flower.

“Well, don’t just _glare_ at it,” the King chuckled.

“You said I need concentration and willpower. That’s what I’m doing!” Ed said defensively.

The King shook his head softly. “You don’t need to be quite so obvious with it. Mind over body.”

“So I just think really hard?” That didn’t sound quite right. Surely there was something more to it.

“I agree that sounds so much more boring than pointing at stuff and glaring at them but, trust me, it’s more effective.”

“Can _you_ do it?”

The King hesitated. “I am no wizard,” he said simply.

“But you know the theory. You’re magical. Surely you could actively practice magic if you wanted to.”

“I’m not magical…”

“You’re a goblin! That’s magical where I come from.”

“Everyone here is magical where you come from,” The King rolled his eyes.

“But you _could_ use magic if you wanted to,” Ed insisted.

“I could… theoretically,” the King allowed.

Ed grinned. “And you also have all those magical artefacts, books and knowledge. You could be the most powerful wizard in Gotham!”

“Theoretically.”

“So why aren’t you?”

The King swallowed. “It’s not—it’s a personal choice. I use magic if I have to. Not all the time. I don’t need it to defy me. It’s not a crutch, and I don’t want it to be.”

That probably made sense, Ed supposed. The King definitely preferred to _be_ the source of power, not just _possess_ it.

“Now, stop distracting us with questions that can wait for another time, and think about levitating that lily!” Penguin instructed, tapping Ed’s shoulder. He then took a few steps to the right to give Ed more space.

Edward knew the theory. He read so much. The King, too, had taught him a lot over the last days. Yet Ed still couldn’t quite find his inner center, and that, the King claimed, was most important in order to tap into one’s secret magic juices.

Edward was doubting himself again. Perhaps the King sensed it because he leaned up to the other man’s ear and whispered, “It’s there, Ed. It’s inside you. Find your way to it. Think of what’s fueling you and release it.”  

Edward closed his eyes and really thought about it.

“How did the Book first come to you?” The King continued.

“Miss Isabella gave it to me,” Ed replied, remembering, eyes still closed. “She’s the nice librarian back on Earth. One of the very few people there who was actually kind to me. She never made fun of me like the others. Never hurt me.”

“Okay. So her kindness made you feel better. Perhaps she’s the key?” The King suggested. His voice wavered a little. “Did you, umm… did you _love_ Miss Isabella? Perhaps, _love_ is what drives you?”

Ed laughed. “Miss Isabella was a nice old woman. If anything, she was more of a mother figure to me than a love interest.”

Edward might have imagined it but after he said that the King exhaled with what sounded a lot like relief.

“Alright. So maybe friendship then?” Penguin then said.

Ed shrugged. “I never had friends. Miss Isabella was friendly but we weren’t close friends. We never saw each other outside the library. All we ever talked about was books. I don’t know anything about her life, really.”

“Alright. So no Miss Isabella,” Penguin muttered. “Let’s think of it this way then. What did you have on your mind when the Book opened the portal for you?”

“I—I was… intrigued. Curious to find something new. To reveal a new world with that book.”

It was strange but as he said it he could swear he _heard_ Penguin smile.

“Curiosity then. Curiosity is your center,” the King whispered to himself, then turned back to Ed. “Edward, I want you to wonder what it would be like to see this flower fly.”

Ed snorted. “That’s just silly! Sounds like kids’ stuff—“

“Please, try it, Ed. Just wonder about it.”  

“Alright. If you really want me to…” Ed opened his eyes and imagined the flower rising up in the air, letting his curiosity fly with it. And suddenly… suddenly the whole bench was up in the air!

“Oh God!” Edward gasped, eyes wide, hands spread as if he was wondering which way to run. The bench wavered a little in the air but remained there until Ed cried out, “I can’t be doing this! This can’t be _me_ doing it!” And that was when the bench (and the lily flower on top of it) dropped down to the ground again, with a loud thud.

Penguin’s eyes were sparkling. “It _was_ you! Don’t doubt yourself!” He took Ed by the arms and turned him back to face the bench. “Now, be more curious! Wonder about something else! Anything!”

Ed licked his lips nervously, heart beating madly in his chest. “I—I’ve been wondering what it would be like if we had a little brook in this garden…” he said out loud and tapped into that deep part in his mind again. His curiosity. He could feel it, the strange tingling in his stomach, the warmth, spreading throughout his body, enveloping him in a cozy blanket. He wasn’t sure if it was working until he was watching in awe as a brook slowly began to appear in front of them.

“You’re doing it, Edward! You’re doing it!” The King exclaimed, sounding as excited as Ed felt. “You’re… redecorating my special secret garden--”

“Sorry about that…” Ed mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s beautiful! I like it!” The King was smiling brightly at him. He looked so proud of Ed. It was amazing to have someone look at you like that. Edward’s heart ached and rejoiced at the same time.

“I wonder if we could have little penguin garden gnomes scattered among the flowers!” Ed gasped and those appeared too. “Oh, my Goddd!”

Granted his magic was still unstable, but Ed could do it! And not just levitating a flower, no. He could actually _create objects out of thin air!_ It was unbelievable yet he believed it for it was happening right before his eyes! It happened in an instant. One moment he was stuck and desperate, then suddenly he wasn’t stuck anymore. Suddenly there was something amazing unleashed inside him, something he didn’t even suspect he had. He turned to face the King. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” he gasped and in his excitement he pulled the King into a tight embrace, holding him close and not letting go.

This man, this goblin, made it possible! He was the one who helped Ed find his center. He was the one who helped Ed discover this amazing thing about himself. If it weren’t for Penguin, Ed would’ve still be wasting his time wandering about the castle and waiting for the right answers when what he truly needed were the right questions.  

Penguin was suddenly very still in the human’s arms. Ed’s sudden show of affection startled him. He was unused to it and unsure how to respond, and as soon as Ed realized that he quickly pulled away, giving the King more space.

The King cleared his throat and swallowed, not saying anything at first. With horror, Ed realized that in his excitement he might have overstepped a boundary.

“Excuse me,” he said quietly, hanging his head.

“No, it’s… it’s alright,” the King muttered, a small but rather sheepish smile appearing on his face. “I’m very happy for you. You did it. You found your magic. And it’s remarkable. Just as I expected it would be,” his smile became wider. “Well done, Edward.”

“I wouldn’t have done it without you! Trust me, I’ve tried,” Ed laughed, still too hyped to stand still.

“This is your victory, Edward. You are allowed to be proud of yourself. This was a major step. Naturally, there’s still a lot more to learn, a lot more to practice. You need to improve your control.”

Edward looked around at the garden and slowly began to notice a few mistakes here and there, a few shortcomings in what he had created. He definitely needed to work on his finer control but the King was right, this was indeed an amazing start.

“You helped me find the confidence and faith that I can actually do it,” he told the King. “I won’t stop practicing. I’ll work even harder now. Be my teacher! I still have so much to learn from you!”

Penguin was a little flustered. “Oh,” he chuckled rather breathlessly. Was he suddenly shy when faced with Edward’s open admiration? “I’d _love_ to help you, friend.”

A smile spread across Edward’s face. At some point he caught himself wondering if the King had other motives to help. Were there expectations? Why was Ed’s power important to Penguin? Did he want Ed to work for him? Become one of his goons? Be another Zsasz? He wanted to ask that but this moment felt somehow special and he didn’t want to ruin it. This place, this garden, it existed outside of time and space, a protective bubble against the real world. Ed did not want to taint it with questions about Gotham, power, or business. He wanted to keep this place pure for both himself and the King. So he left all questions for later and for now enjoyed his new magic.


	17. Chapter XVII: Fire in the Soul

Oswald was struggling with his fireplace. His leg was giving him hell today, after an entire afternoon, evening and night of helping Edward practice his magic. Oswald was aware he was exhausting his leg too much but he didn’t want to be careful. He was too overcome with Edward’s own excitement with his new powers to be careful. It was good to see him so happy and confident and—

A knock came from the door, then it opened before Oswald could even give his verbal permission for entrance.

“Need a hand with that?” It was Edward, velvety smugness in his voice, leaning in the door frame with the air of a man who was well aware of his own charms and abilities.

“Ummm,” Oswald was rather distracted, taken aback by Edward’s new confidence.

“The fireplace?” Edward clarified, rising both eyebrows, amused at Penguin’s initial stunned surprise.

Oswald realized he was still standing bent in half in front of the fireplace, trying to light it and failing. He felt ridiculous all the sudden, and almost instantly straightened up, putting the fireplace poker away. 

“If you would be so kind, I’d appreciate the help,” he said out loud, willing his voice to sound casual, _normal_.

Edward smirked some more and pushed himself off the door frame to waltz towards Oswald—no, towards the _fireplace_ , not towards _Oswald_. Why would he be waltzing towards Oswald? – with a joyful spring in his step.

“It would be my pleasure to light your fire,” he said and raised a hand with splendid confidence, eyes fixed on the King.

Oswald’s mouth went dry and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. He was getting warmer even though the fire wasn’t even lit yet. What was happening? What was this?  

Without as much as looking at it, Ed made the fire loom in the fireplace. His heated gaze as he did that nearly took Oswald’s breath away. For a brief moment the air was filled with a new type of tension and energy between them, the kind that confused Oswald even more. However, that did not last long as it turned out Ed hadn’t calculated his power very well. The fireplace couldn’t contain the burst of fire he created and it nearly burnt everything within the vicinity. The unexpected suddenness of the fire wave made both Ed and Oswald jump startled.

“Oh dear!” Ed gasped and spread out his hands to contain the fire with his magic. When the danger was avoided, he looked back at Oswald, looking very worried. “Are you hurt?” he asked nervously, suddenly returning back to his old jittery persona.

Oswald laughed with fond amusement. This at least felt more familiar. “No, I’m not hurt. It’s perfectly fine, Ed,” he reassured with a smile and put a hand on Ed’s arm to steady the man. “It’s fine, I promise.”

“I wanted to impress you…” Ed confessed, looking down and blushing slightly. “I’ve been practicing in my room.”

“You’ve been practicing to light a fire?” Oswald smiled even more. Edward was so—what was the word? A word other than adorable?

“Practicing to light it _in a cool way_ ,” Edward corrected. “See where the difference is?”

Oswald chuckled. “Aww, that’s sweet. But your magic is already pretty cool, I’d say. Do you really need the theatrics?”

“I do,” Ed said honestly. “They make me feel more confident. Like I’m not an impostor. Without overdoing it, without all the dramatics, I feel like I’m just… not supposed to be here.”

“Oh. I understand, “Oswald  nodded. “But you _do_ belong here, I promise!” he gave Ed’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “And your theatrics were quite impressive.”

Ed looked hopeful. “You liked it?”

“I did, yes,” Penguin cleared his throat. “So, now that we have a nice fire burning…,” Ed chuckled, “... would you like to stay for a cup of tea before bed?”

Edward smiled, “Sure,” he settled comfortably in his armchair – the one near the fireplace – and waited for the King.

“You are making quite the progress,” Oswald said as he busied himself with making the tea. “You weren’t lying when you said you were a fast learner.”

“I still haven’t summoned the Book though,” Ed suppressed a sigh. He knew this was not the goal of their work together -- the Book would come to him when the time was right, when he was ready -- but he still wished it happened sooner.  

“Patience,” Oswald said. “It will happen.”

He served the tea and went to sit in his own armchair opposite Edward’s. As he did so, however, he flinched a little at a sudden jolt of pain in his bad leg. Sucking in a sharp breath, he clenched his teeth to hold in his yelp, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the area around his knee. The familiar touch soothed him a little but it was hardly enough. The knee was what hurt the most, that was where the true damage was. He should’ve been used to it by now, pain had become a second nature to his existence. A constant companion, never leaving him alone.

He opened his eyes and noticed that Edward was staring at his bad leg and the movements of his hand over his knee. “Something the matter, Edward?” he asked to remind the man to not forget his manners, and to look away.

Edward snapped out of it, gaze lifting up to Oswald’s eyes. “You’re in pain. Again,” he said.

Oswald exhaled tiredly. “Thank you for that observation.”

Edward seemed troubled. “I don’t understand why won’t you do something about it? Surely it can be healed.”

Penguin shook his head. “Not _this_ damage, I’m afraid.”

Ed pursed his lips, fists clenched tightly at the armrests. “I can’t believe you’re this resigned about it! That injury torments you night and day, without rest! It gets in the way of your everyday life, it demands you to constantly pay attention to it! Don’t pretend that’s not true because I’ve seen it! I see that it’s hurting you! And you just give up trying to fix it!? Why?”

Oswald inhaled deeply. He did not look angry, just tired. “Edward, I understand your frustration but—“

“Let me try to heal it!” Ed cut him off.

“No.”

“Let me!” Ed insisted, sliding off his chair. “I’m getting better with my magic and I read about it! I could do it!”

The King arched an eyebrow. “You read about healing leg injuries?”

Ed froze. “I did, yes,” he admitted.

Oswald furrowed his brows and intertwined his fingers together in his lap. “And why would you do that, if I may ask?”

Ed hesitated. The answer was clear but the King looked like he expected an answer. “Because I wanted to heal you,” he confessed. “There! Now you know. I wanted to heal you.”

Oswald’s throat clenched. He couldn’t breathe. No one since his mother… no one since Jim… _ever_ cared about him, ever thought about easing his pain. His chest was tight like something was holding it in a strong iron clasp. Merciless and hard. Overwhelmed with repressed emotions, he felt his eyes were filling with tears, nearly blurring his vision. He had to blink them away and quickly wipe his cheeks. He hoped Edward did not notice the subtle gesture, he didn’t want to worry the human even more.

“That’s really kind of you, Edward, but as I said,” he inhaled again, trying to sound calm. His voice was too soft, too small, nearly a whisper, “my leg cannot be healed.”

Edward leaned forward, closing the distance between himself and Oswald. Their eyes locked as he spoke gently but decidedly, “Look, I’m not an idiot. I realize that _this_ ,” his finger pointed at Oswald’s knee, close but not touching it, “is no ordinary injury. I understand that it was probably done to you by one of your enemy, that they probably used magic. That’s why you fear it cannot be healed, right? And that’s most likely the reason you banned magic in Gotham. I understand all that. But now you have me. And _I_ have magic. You see what I can do! I can _create_ things! Granted I’m still weak and inexperienced,” he allowed, “but there’s potential! You can see it, you can feel it, I know you can! I’ll get stronger!” His hand carefully cupped Oswald’s on top of the injured knee. “Maybe you couldn’t fix your leg before because you never had me before. Maybe if anyone could do it, it’s me. I know it’s painful, both literally and metaphorically, but let me try. What have you to lose?”

Oswald slowly inhaled then let that air out again. He looked a little shaky. “I have more to lose than you think,” he uttered. It sounded like a rejection yet his hand reached down to his trouser leg, fingers rucking up the material to reveal…

“It’s stone!” Edward exclaimed, gaping stupidly at what appeared to be Penguin’s _stone_ leg.

“And that’s why I didn’t want you to know,” Penguin huffed and pulled the trouser leg down again.

“No, no! I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend, I was just surprised,” Ed said. “It’s—your leg is stone! Is this stone? Why is it stone? Is it stone?”

“Yes, Ed, it’s stone,” Oswald confirmed, not sure how he felt about Ed’s enthusiastic reaction.

Ed looked at him with the face of a very serious puppy. “May I touch it?”

Oswald gaped. “Why would you want to touch my leg?” he gasped.

“It’s interesting,” Ed said earnestly. “Is it _really_ your leg? Or is it like a… like a pirate’s wooden leg?”

A very _excitable_ puppy, Oswald thought. “It’s my actual leg, Edward,” he said resigned to the human’s curiosity by now.

“I’m sorry if I seem too forward but this is remarkable! I’ve never seen anything like it… as you can tell. May I… see it again…?” he slowly reached for Penguin’s trouser leg again, hesitatingly pulling up the material to reveal more of the stone-skin. “Is your entire body like that or--?”

“It’s just this leg. And it’s just up to the knee. After that it’s my regular skin. The skin you see on my face and hands…” Oswald explained. It was odd to talk about this with anybody. The last time he had a similar conversation was with Jim… and Jim didn’t even remember it now (and _hopefully_ _never_ remembers it).

“Fascinating!” Ed uttered, more to himself than to Oswald, as he examined what could be seen of the leg with open curiosity. “Why does it hurt you? I mean, it looks and feels like stone, I don’t see any nerve endings, so where does the pain come from?”

“The pain comes from—from my knee, actually,” Oswald heard himself say. He was stuttering a little, feeling so vulnerable with his leg bare before Edward’s eyes. Even though all that was revealed was the bottom of it, mostly the ankle and parts of the calf, he felt terribly exposed. “It hurts where it transitions from skin to stone. And the heaviness makes it worse when I exhaust myself too much physically.”

“That also explains your limp. One leg is heavier than the other,” Ed hummed with understanding. He looked up at Oswald. “How did this happen? Was it the same magic you use to turn traitors to stone?”  

Penguin smirked. “And how do you know about that?”

Ed hesitated slightly. “… Barbara mentioned it.”

“Mhm,” Oswald leaned back into his comfortable armchair. “Anything else exciting that Barbara mentioned about me?” he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Edward expectantly. He was mostly just teasing him, a futile attempt to regain control in a situation where he felt so vulnerable.

“Not really,” Ed said. “But she’s not a great fan of yours, I can tell you that.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Oswald chuckled with an eye roll.

When he looked back at Ed, the human was kneeling closer before him, both hands touching Oswald’s stone leg, examining it with great care and attention. He probably didn’t even know Oswald was looking at him with his mouth nearly gaping.

“It’s a very unusual appendage,” Edward muttered.

Oswald sighed. “Please, don’t call it that. It sounds very weird,” he rubbed at the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“And you’re sure it’s just your leg? No… other hard stone parts?” Ed asked, looking up.

Oswald felt himself blushing. He was aware Edward was asking this in a purely medical context but his heart still skipped a beat at Ed’s intense curiosity about his body. His mouth went dry, palms sweaty, and he caught his mind going in dangerous directions. He definitely needed to get those undesirable thoughts out of his head! It had been awhile since he’d had them, now was _definitely_ not the time to go back there. But Edward had stirred something inside him, something long forgotten.

“It’s just my leg,” he muttered under his breath.

“This will take more research then I initially expected,” Ed finally announced his diagnoses, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Penguin. “I need to know, was it a curse, an enchanted object, or perhaps poison? You don’t have to tell me how you received your injury but I need to at least know the source.”

It made sense. But it wasn’t safe to give Ed that information.

“I’m sorry, Edward, I can’t tell you that,” Oswald shook his head regretfully. “There’s a reason I don’t speak about my leg. I cannot break my own rule now. Even for you. I’m sorry.”

Ed frowned. He was visibly disappointed by the lack of information but he seemed to understand. He did not insist or pry into Oswald’s affairs, didn’t force him to speak or ask for his confidence, even though he clearly craved to know more. This made Oswald’s desire to share the truth with him even stronger. So strong, in fact, that he had to actually bite down his lower lip in order to stop himself from confiding. The history of his injury was one of the keys to his undoing. He could _never_ entrust it with anyone ever again. Jim Gordon had to remain his one and only mistake, a reminder to never let others get too close.

He cleared his throat. “You should probably go get some sleep, Edward,” he said out loud. “It’s nearly sunrise.”

Ed shook his head with a smile. “Not really. I’m adapting to your schedule. Sleeping for most of the day and staying awake for the afternoon and night sounds pretty fun. And rather bohemian.”

Oswald chuckled fondly. “You’re a strange man, Edward Nygma.”

“So are you, Penguin,” Ed replied with a matching smile. “It’s a good thing we found each other.”  


	18. Chapter XVIII: The Letter, The Voice, and the Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out a bit longer. I considered splitting it into two separate chapters but that just didn’t flow right with me so here we are now. I hope you enjoy it :)

Ed returned to his own room after the sun was already up. He yawned and stretched, then decided to draw back the curtains and sleep till noon at least. He was tired but also very content with the direction his life at the Castle was taking. The King was good to him. Ed actually felt valued and liked (which was a first). He also had a great opportunity to improve himself and learn more (which again was something he liked). Everything was neat! 

 

He finished up with his bedtime routine quickly and flopped down on the large comfortable bed with a moan of pleasure. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was from his magical activities and his own excited enthusiasm. He craved a nice long rest before the next day. He wondered absentmindedly if the King was just as tired in his own bed right now. Was he already asleep? Would he have good dreams this time? Penguin put so much effort into helping Edward, topped with his other duties as King it had to be exhausting for him too. 

 

Ed shifted in his bed, hugging his pillow as was his habit, ready to drift into blissful sleep when suddenly he felt something. A piece of paper, folded under his pillow. Ed gasped and sprang up, staring at it with surprise. “What!?” 

 

It was a letter alright. He carefully took it in hand. Addressed to him, naturally since it was  _ in his bed _ . But who could possibly leave this in his room? Who managed to sneak unnoticed? And why? Ed had literally no correspondence with anyone at all. It couldn’t be the King -- he would’ve given it to Ed himself, or simply told Ed whatever he needed to. Puzzled, Edward stared at the letter some more, too nervous to actually open it. Then a sudden thought went through his mind and his breath hitched.  

 

“Is this from you, Riddle Book?” he asked, swallowing nervously even though his mouth was dry. “Am I finally ready? Have you decided to show yourself to me?” He held the letter with the respect it deserved and opened it with trembling fingers, heart beating fast in his chest. If this was really some magical way to communicate with his Book, then… “Oh,” he sighed disappointed after a quick look over the lines. “It’s just from Barbara.” 

 

Wait! Barbara!? Why was Barbara writing to him? And how did she manage to get a letter to his bedroom!? 

 

“Are you hiding somewhere in my room, Tabitha?” Ed insisted, glancing around. He took a few steps, looking at different hiding places that she could’ve used. It wasn’t beneath Tabitha to do that, after all, and she was quite good at sneaking up. If anyone could plant a secret letter in one of the Castle bedrooms, it had to be her. “Tabitha?” Ed repeated. 

 

When no answer followed, he decided he was probably being paranoid -- there was clearly no one else in his bedroom -- so he decided to read the contents of the letter properly instead. 

_ Dear Edward, _

_ Do you miss me? Considering that you only have  _ **_him_ ** _ for company, I  _ **_know_ ** _ you  _ **_must_ ** _ miss me. It must be awful for you there.  _

_ Anyway, I’m writing to remind you that you have friends outside that dreadful prison  _ **_he_ ** _ calls a castle. And we haven’t forgotten you! Give us a sign that you are well. Let us know how you’re doing. We worry.  _

_ Your friend,  _

  1. 👑



 

The B. at the end was followed by a small drawing of a crown -- Barbara’s humorous way of reminding him she’d one day be queen, no doubt. Ed rolled his eyes at the subtlety. He didn’t waste too much time to think about that though. He had other things on his mind, and there was another line at the end of the letter that made Ed groan. 

 

_ P.S. Did you manage to summon the Book?  _

Well, of course Barbara would want to know  _ that _ . He skimmed through the letter one more time, still quite astonished that Barbara would risk being discovered for  _ this _ . Did she even realize how dangerous this could be? 

With the letter in hand he started pacing his room nervously. This was so unexpected. He didn’t even  _ want  _ it to happen. Barbara was risking everything by sending Ed a letter! Why would she do that? What if Penguin saw it? What if he read it instead of Ed? Just being discovered with a correspondence from one of Penguin’s greatest opponents would put Ed in a terrible position! The King had enough trust issues to begin with, he didn’t need to doubt Ed as well! Things were going so well between them, Ed didn’t want to lose that. He felt understood for the first time in his life. Why was Barbara jeopardizing all of that to ask him how he was? Or more specifically to get the gosip and check if he knew where the book was. 

 

He breathed in deeply and concluded that dwelling on why Barbara wrote the letter was a pointless waste of time. It was here already, there was nothing he could do about that now. Luckily it did not get in the wrong hands. What mattered from now on was what Ed would do with it. 

 

He could burn it. Pretend it never happened. Get rid of the evidence. He hadn’t done anything wrong and what the King didn’t know wouldn't hurt him. Surely that was the logical thing to do in this situation. He didn’t want to write to Barbara, he didn’t want to send her secret letters. It felt wrong to sneak behind Penguin’s back. But on the other hand not replying to Barbara would be like a declaration of his betrayal. She particularly asked of him to confirm if he was alright. She expected an answer so an answer must follow. Ed’s head hurt. He sighed. He was too tired to stress over silly intrigues. He had actual important work to do, he was making progress, improving his magic!  _ That  _ was more important than Barbara’s petty games. He did not want to defy her just yet, though, and definitely not so openly, but what could he do? Betray Penguin? Out of the question. On the other hand, an angry Barbara could easily do more damage to Ed than any of her letters. A few carefully selected words in the King’s ear and the seeds of doubt would be planted in Penguin’s heart. He would never trust Edward again! 

_ He doesn’t trust you now either, you nincompoop!  _ A little voice sounded in Edward’s head. And perhaps that voice had a point but Edward refused to listen to it. It was true, Penguin was unwilling to give Ed details for his peculiar leg injury, but this was a very private matter. It stood to reason that the King wouldn’t want to discuss it much. The mere fact that he trusted Ed enough to let him actually  _ see  _ the leg in question was already very significant. Yes, the King  _ trusted  _ him with many important things! He even trusted him with magic! He gave Ed full access to all the magic in Penguin’s possession and even started teaching him magic.  

 

_ Because he’s planning on using your power, you naïve fool!  _ That same voice persisted, louder this time. 

 

Ed swallowed and rubbed at his eyes. “No, no. That’s different. We’re partners. He’s my mentor, my teacher.” 

 

_ Is he now? Or is he indulging you so that you’d be a good boy for him? So that he can control you?  _

 

“If he wanted to control me, he could’ve easily done it already! I’ve seen dozens of mind-control charms and spells down in that magic dungeon of his! He could’ve forced me to do his bidding but he didn’t! That counts for something!”  

 

_ It’s sweet you want to think that.  _

 

“I don’t just think it, I  _ know  _ it!” Edward screamed angrily. “Now shut up already!”

His own voice echoed throughout the room and only then did Ed realize he was actually yelling at himself. He must have been really exhausted if he actually got so caught up in an argument with his own thoughts. 

 

He panted, shutting his eyes again. He craved sleep, he needed to clear his head. He couldn’t think about any of this now. 

 

“I’m going to bed,” he announced to the air with determination. “I’ll decide what to do tomorrow.” 

 

With the letter hidden safely back under his pillow, Ed lied down again and let himself drift into much desired sleep. 

 

~*~  

 

“Edward? Edddd,” the King sing-songed. 

 

Edward blinked at him, snapping out of his thoughts. “Yes?” 

 

The King was watching him with a fond smile. “You’re distracted. Anything I can help you with?” 

 

“Oh. No. I was…,” he cleared his throat, “thinking about the Book, that’s all.” It was technically only half a lie. He was indeed thinking about the Book, but also about  _ Barbara and _ the Book. 

 

“Of course. The Book,” Penguin sighed. “Why do you want it so badly? I told you it will come to you when you’re ready. Why are you so impatient?” 

 

“I’m not. I want it because I’m supposed to be its master. Yet I can’t wield it. It’s weird.” 

 

“If you keep worrying about that it will affect your magic negatively,” Penguin warned. “You can’t force it, Edward. You have to let it happen in its own time.” 

 

Ed sighed. “I wish I were ready. You said it yourself that I’m making progress. Yet apparently it isn’t good enough for the Book to reveal itself to me. I’m beginning to wonder if the Book even likes me,” he rolled his eyes at his own words. 

 

A gentle hand cupped his own. Ed looked up and met Penguin’s gaze. The touch so soft and soothing, it made Edward melt a little.  

 

“I know how frustrating it can be, Edward. I know how much this means to you,” he said gently. “But you’re getting there, I promise. You’re doing great and you’ve learned so much over these last days.” 

 

“Thank you…” 

 

“You have nothing to thank me for. I only gave you a little nudge. The rest is all your doing,” the King waved it off with a smile, retreating his hand from Edward. 

 

Ed found himself missing its warmth and comfort. “That nudge meant more to me than I can express,” he said, heartfelt. “Your encouragement means a lot to me.” 

 

Penguin’s eyes sparkled a little at that. “It’s what friends do for one another.” 

 

Ed’s throat closed. “Yes. Friends,” he muttered. “And friends,” he continued grimly, “do not lie to one another.” 

 

Penguin swallowed. He looked a little alarmed. “What are you talking about, Edward?” he asked concerned.  

 

Ed felt incredibly guilty all the sudden. Not telling the King about Barbara’s letter felt like lying by omission. Perhaps it was silly that he was so bothered by it but it just didn’t sit comfortably with him. Not only was he lying to the King, he was lying to  _ his friend, _ and that made it worse. Ed didn’t want to lie to Penguin, he realized that now. He didn’t care what Barbara thought about it, he couldn’t hide such important things from him. Furthermore, Penguin’s own security was at stake here. He needed to know if someone was able to willy-nilly enter his Castle, leave stuff around and leave without getting caught. Yes, Ed definitely needed to inform Penguin about the letter. However, at the same time, he was terrified of what the King might think about him if he learned the truth. What if Penguin thought Ed  _ wanted  _ to conspire against him!? Oh dear! Was that what Ed was doing? Working undercover for Barbara Kean? He was no snitch! He wasn't here to betray the King! Perhaps that had crossed his mind in the beginning when he didn’t know Penguin and when all his information came from Barbara, but that certainly wasn’t the case anymore! Penguin was his friend now. And friends didn’t lie to one another. 

 

He’d been silent for too long. The King was looking at him with growing concern. 

 

“There’s something else bothering you, Edward, isn’t there?” Penguin asked. He seemed a bit disappointed, or perhaps it was all in Edward’s imagination. 

 

Ed gave a small nod. “Yes. There is,” he admitted. No point in lying about it. Apparently the King knew him well enough by now to be able to tell when something was causing him distress.  

 

“But you don’t want to discuss it?” The King’s voice was calm and gentle, caring and careful.  

 

Ed shook his head. “Not really.” 

 

The King nodded. “I see,” he exhaled. “It’s private then. I understand. That’s alright. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

 

“It’s not private,” Edward corrected, looking Penguin straight in the eyes. “And it concerns you directly. That’s why I’m not sure what to do. I should tell you but I’m nervous.” 

 

Not a muscle moved on Penguin’s face. Like he was particularly conscious not to show emotion. “It’s not just about the Book, is it.” 

 

Not a question but a statement. Ed shook his head nevertheless. 

 

“I see,” the King said again, licking at his lips. He hesitated a little before asking, “Edward… Are you afraid of me?” 

 

His voice made a strange little tremor at the word  _ afraid _ . It made Ed flinch internally. 

 

He swallowed. “I’m not afraid of you, Penguin. But I am afraid of what you might think of me.” 

 

Penguin’s lips parted a little like he was about to say something but then he didn’t. Ed didn’t press. He looked down at his own hands instead, giving them both a little time to get through with this conversation. Their magic lesson was forgotten now. Silence ruled the library instead. 

 

“You know me better than anyone in Gotham,” the King finally uttered quietly. 

 

His voice sounded so earnest, so honest, his face was open and vulnerable. He no longer tried to hide his emotions, he was wearing them proudly now, offering them to Ed to do with them as he pleased. Another show of trust that Edward did not deserve, considering… 

 

Penguin continued, “I’ve let you see me like no one else has. You know that. Is it so terrifying to take a chance and… and allow me to see you as well? Or do you think so little of me, that you assume I’d turn my back on you when you bare yourself in front of me?” 

 

Ed looked up at him. “If I tell you this, will you promise me to not jump to any haste conclusions? To not instantly think the worst about me?” 

 

“Of course!” Penguin assured with feeling.  

 

Ed swallowed despite how dry throat was. He had made his choice, now he had to face it. “I received a letter from Barbara Kean.” He waited a beat. “That’s it.” 

 

The King stared. “That’s all?” 

 

Ed nodded, ready for judgement. 

 

After a small pause the King burst into a merry laughter. 

 

Edward was puzzled. Did the King suddenly lose his mind!?  

 

“Well, of course you got a letter from her!” somehow the King seemed even more amused by how utterly astonished Ed seemed. “This is Barbara we’re talking about. You were _ ‘her human’ _ and I took you from her, she hates it. I’m surprised she never wrote to you before.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Well, yes. In fact, I assumed you two were already in touch since the beginning of your stay here. Are you saying this was the first time you’ve heard from her?”  

 

“Well… yes,” Ed blinked even more flabbergasted. 

 

Penguin bit back his lips to stop himself from laughing any further. The whole situation seemed too hilarious for him to handle and Edward couldn’t understand why. 

 

“Barbara Kean wants you on her side, Ed,” the King explained. “She would never just surrender you to me permanently. To her you’re an asset. When I took you from her she was  _ furious _ ,” he reached out for the tray with sweets on the table and popped one into his mouth. “She clearly needs something from you and I suspect it’s that Book,” he gave it some thought as he chewed but then shrugged and continued, “It was only a matter of time for her to find a way to reach you here.” 

 

Ed blinked. “So you’re not mad?”

 

“Mad? At you? Of course not!” Penguin shook his head. “You thought I’d be mad at you?” 

 

Ed looked down at his hands again. “I was afraid you’d think I betrayed you…” 

 

“ _ Have _ you betrayed me, Ed?” There was a slight edge to his voice in that last question. Trusting yet testing. 

 

Ed quickly looked up again. “No! Never!” He reassured with passion. 

 

Penguin nodded, a soft smile spreading under that long beaky nose of his. “Barbara put you here for a reason. And while I admit there was a time when I entertained the idea that you were probably working for her, I no longer think that. I meant it when I said that I want you to be my friend.”  

 

Ed felt greatly relieved. “I feel the same way about you too. I don’t think I ever had a friend as close as you. You must be my first real friend.” 

 

“Oh… well, since we’re sharing, neither had I.” There was fondness in the King’s eyes as he said that and Edward felt a warm wave flush his entire body at that sight. It was so peculiar to him that he needed to instantly change the topic to calm himself. 

 

“But I must make something clear,” he continued, firmly. “I don’t want Barbara to get hurt for no reason.” 

 

“You’re protecting her. That’s nice of you,” Penguin said. “That’s a fair request,” he allowed. “I understand your fondness for her. She was the first person who was nice to you in Gotham. She took care of you when you were alone, confused and frightened. Naturally, you feel kind of… attached.” 

 

Ed remained silent. 

 

The corners of Penguin’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Yet I can’t help but notice you chose me over her when you were faced with the dilemma of the letter. I must admit I find that quite flattering. I-- I honestly thought you two somehow kept in touch behind my back. I didn’t think of it as  _ ‘conspiring’ _ per se, but…” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, I appreciate your candor and I thank you for it.” 

 

“I’m surprised you never brought it up if you thought I was secretly communicating with one of your… opponents.” 

 

“You think Barbara is my opponent?” The King asked cheerfully. 

 

“Isn’t she?” Ed tilted his head. This was a slippery slope. He was openly getting involved in Gotham’s politics. But somehow he felt ready to have this conversation with Penguin, he felt confident and safe enough to discuss that with him now. 

 

Penguin remained quiet, observing Edward with strange new interest. 

 

“I assume the heads of every race in Gotham could be considered your opponents,” Ed continued. “Isn’t this an eternal struggle for more? More power, more respect, more information, more knowledge?” 

 

“More magic?” The King added, looking Ed carefully in the eyes. 

 

Ed chuckled. “You got me there. But am I wrong?” 

 

Penguin’s smile grew wider but slightly less warm. “You like being right, Edward, don’t you.” Not a question. 

 

“Who doesn’t?” Ed replied nevertheless. 

 

“True, but it’s different for you. You  _ need  _ to be right, to be sharp, to be clever. To be one step ahead of everyone. To know more than the others. You are curious but not only for curiosity's sake. You’re  _ terrified  _ at the idea of not being the smartest man in the room because…” 

 

Ed inhaled sharply. His heart was racing in his chest. The King had read him like an open book. “Because…?” 

 

“Because if you didn’t have your magnificent brain, you’d once again feel like that frightened little boy you used to be.” 

 

Ed swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You… you definitely know me well,” he admitted. 

 

Penguin relaxed back into his chair, pleased that he had the upper hand again. “We understand one another, Ed. And we compliment each other perfectly. The way we are, we could either hurt each other really badly, or work together and have Gotham in the palm of our hands.” 

 

“But you already have Gotham in the palm of your hand. Why do you need me?” 

 

Penguin seemed a little flustered at that. “You know me, Edward. I think you already have the answer to that question.” 

 

Ed furrowed his brows. The only answer he could think of was that Penguin felt that same bond Edward felt. The bond that finally ended their loneliness. But was this what the King meant? “I’m not sure if I have that answer,” Ed said out loud. 

 

“Then think about it harder,” was all Penguin said in return. 

 

“I didn’t reply to Barbara’s letter,” Ed said in a beet, needing to be completely honest about this whole situation before they could continue as they were. “I fear she may be furious at me for it.” 

 

Penguin waved it off. “She won’t. If she expects you to keep her letter a secret, she knows how difficult it would be to send a reply without raising suspicions.” He arched an eyebrow. “Unless she gave you instructions how to reply?” 

 

Ed shook his head. “No, she didn’t. I’ve no idea how the letter got in my bedroom either.” 

 

“Mhm,” the King said thoughtfully. “Barbara has her channels. I never underestimate her.” He looked back up at Edward and perhaps he saw something in his face because he suddenly asked, “You’re not afraid of Barbara Kean, are you?” 

 

Ed shrugged. “A little? I’m more afraid of Tabitha, to be honest.” 

 

The amusement was gone from Penguin’s face. “Tabitha is to be despised, not feared,” he blurted out through his teeth. 

 

The King’s sudden anger startled Ed. Did he miss something? There was clearly some history there. 

 

Penguin cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “Apologies. That is another sore topic for me. Tabitha and her brother led the army that destroyed my kind all those unfortunate centuries ago…” 

 

Edward paled. “I had no idea…” 

 

“My mother died because of their cruelty… my mother and countless others…”  

 

Edward felt terrible. “I’m so sorry! Had I known, I would’ve--” 

 

“What? You would’ve what?” the King snapped. “There’s nothing you can do, Edward. That’s ancient history now. No one even remembers it. They were just goblins, so who cares? They’re not important! Their lives didn’t matter.” A bitter laugh escaped through his lips but he stifled it quickly, then cleared his throat and looked away, as if avoiding Edward’s gaze. “We should talk about something else. Something… different. I guess I’m still not ready to discuss that time of my life. It’s still too raw, too--” he didn’t finish.  

 

“I understand,” Ed said quietly. He couldn’t exactly imagine losing his entire kind like that, he was no genocide survival, but he knew what it felt like to be alone, to be so cruelly wronged. He knew some of the King’s pain, and what he didn’t know he could easily empathize with. 

 

Penguin sucked in a sharp breath and when he looked back at the human he actually managed to smile again. “Barbara cannot hurt you in this Castle, Ed. You’re safe. She hates to admit it, but she’s weak. Her elves don’t have enough power to end me and none of the other races would follow her after her last attempt. I made sure Gotham knows what happens to those who betray me.” 

 

Ed felt a shiver run down his spine at the last words. 

 

“If you want to reply to her, then do so,” the King concluded. “I trust you. I know you won’t betray my confidence. I know you’re no spy.” 

 

“You… you actually trust me?” 

 

Penguin nodded. “I told you I did. I wasn’t lying. You’re no conspirator, Ed. You’re my friend.” A smile spread across Penguin’s features. He rose from his chair and headed for the door. “I’ll be leaving you now. I guess you have a lot to think about and I don’t want to get in your way.” 

 

_ It’s a trick, you know. He’s playing you like a fiddle.  _

 

Ed shook his head rapidly, trying to drive those thoughts out of his mind. 

 

 ** _No one_** _is this tolerant about their enemies. And he_ ** _knows_** _Barbara is his enemy. Even if he won’t outright admit it!_

 

“Stop that!” Ed cried out. 

 

The King stopped in his tracks at the door of the library and turned around to face Ed. “Stop what?” 

 

Ed’s eyes snapped open and he froze like a frightened deer. “No, I wasn’t talking to you, I was-- thinking out loud…” He swallowed. “My thoughts, they… get so intense sometimes, I forget they’re only in my head and I don’t need to actually reply to them.” 

 

“Oh,” Penguin smiled with the clear intention to show understanding even when he didn’t quite understand. “Alright.” He hesitated again, hand resting on the doorknob. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

 

Ed wasn’t sure. “Of course,” he forced a smile. 

 

“You’d tell me if you need anything, right?” 

 

Ed nodded again. 

 

“Alright then. You know best.” Penguin said. “See you around!” He waddled out of the library. 

 

“Yes… see you…” Ed muttered. His mind was already elsewhere. 


	19. Chapter XIX: The Goblin and His Wishing Well

Edward did not reply to Barbara’s letter. After some deliberation he decided that would be best. He had nothing to tell her, and anything else would feel like he was either lying to her or agreeing with her hatred for the King. He didn’t feel comfortable with either options so he chose silence instead. In the meanwhile, he concentrated on practicing his magic. Things were back to normal and Edward was glad for it. Until one morning while Ed was reading in his bed the King just burst into his bedroom, unannounced and at a very unexpected time.  

 

“Edward!” He looked in quite a state, too, dishevelled and messy, which was unusual for him. If Edward were a little bolder he would’ve gone as far as to say the King was frightened. “Edward, I’m sorry to intrude on your personal time but I need help… please?”  

 

“Of course!” Edward put away the book he was reading and slid off his bed. Judging by the King’s face, he instantly assumed something terrible had occurred. “What happened?” 

 

The King hesitated, opening his mouth but unable to choose his words. “It-- it’s difficult to explain.”  

 

“I’m not sure I can help if I don’t know what this is about,” Edward reminded carefully. 

 

Penguin nodded, clearly understanding the need to speak yet seemingly unable to muster the strength for it. Closing his eyes he tried to even his breathing and finally spoke again, “I know. But,” his eyes met Edward’s, “it might be easier to show you.” 

 

“Okay,” Edward agreed readily. “Where are we going?” 

 

“Outside the Castle,” Penguin said. His eyes slid down to Edward’s chest and he swallowed. “You might want to change your garments…”  

 

Edward untied the robe he was wearing and shrugged out of it, remaining in nothing but his nightshirt. 

 

The King sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll-- I’ll wait for you outside…” he said, clearing his throat, and quickly waddling out of Ed’s room.  

 

Ed tried to be as quick as he could. This was obviously important if the King was willing to neglect his routine schedule and come looking for Ed at this unusually early hour of the morning. Ed didn’t want to keep him waiting. 

 

“All yours,” he announced when he rejoined the King outside of his chamber. 

 

Penguin only nodded and led the way. The two left the Castle, the King opening an umbrella over their heads the moment they were out in the open. 

 

Ed glanced at the clear blue sky above them. “Is it going to rain?” 

 

“That’s for the sun” the Penguin replied. “It’s too bright for my eyes.” 

 

“Oh. Yes, I’ve heard light eyes are more sensitive to sunlight.” The King’s eyes were a beautiful combination of blue and green, Edward had noticed. They were probably very sensitive to sunlight. 

 

The King made no remark on the matter, only took Ed by the arm as they walked under the umbrella in silence. No guards were accompanying them, not even one. Ed was surprised that the King would risk his own security like that. It was very peculiar for the man who had people taste his food for him. 

 

“No Zsasz?” Edward finally asked, unable to resist his curiosity any longer. 

 

Penguin shook his head. “I don’t take anyone where we’re going.”

 

Edward’s curiosity was piqued even more now. This was another secret the King was willing to share with Ed. There was something thrilling about being so profoundly trusted by someone as private and solitary as Penguin.

 

As they progressed, Ed realized they were heading for the woods that surrounded the Castle. No one ever went there, the forest was as quiet and secluded as it always was. No sign of presence other than that of Mother Nature and her creatures. Edward wondered what could it be that the King got hidden in here. Among the tree branches and weirdly shaped rocks Penguin seemed to recognize a path no one else could see. The Goblin King was familiar with hundreds of lonely places, it would appear. Edward wondered how often would Penguin spend his days and nights in solitude. Was he lonely or did he find peace in being alone? 

 

Edward did not ask any of the questions that were invading his mind though. He trusted his guide and thought better than distracting him with conversation at a time when he was clearly preoccupied with something else. Instead of conversing, Edward engaged his energy in memorizing every turn of the invisible path they were following. He wanted to know where exactly in the woods they were going. However, to his great annoyance, their location was not easy to determine so he soon had to give up and wait to see what unfolded in front of him. 

 

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” Ed muttered, only half joking. 

 

The King gave him a look. “I promised if I ever become your enemy you’d know it,” he reminded.

 

Edward remembered their conversation about it a while ago and nodded. So no murderous plans then. Good. 

 

“But we’re here already. So no worries,” Penguin announced and Edward looked around. 

 

They were in the middle of a lovely meadow, surrounded by trees. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, with flowers and sunshine, fresh air and the songs of birds carried by the wind. There was even a wishing well in the middle of this whole thing, which only added to the fantasy atmosphere of the place. 

 

“It’s so beautiful,” Edward muttered. 

 

The King did not seem affected by the beauty, however. He inhaled deeply and waddled towards the wishing well, placing his hands on it and glancing down. Edward followed, curious to see what this was about. 

 

“There used to be many portals to other worlds in Gotham, in the past,” Penguin said, not lifting his gaze from the wishing well. “Gothamites often used them escape justice or to bringing objects that would wreak havoc in here,” he chuckled bitterly. “Everything is a weapon in Gotham. So I closed all portals. Every single one of them.” He looked at Ed. “All except this one.” 

 

Ed gaped, eyes falling down to the wishing well. “This,” he pointed at the stone well, “is a portal?” The well seemed so ordinary, yet it held such unexpected power that it could actually transport a person from one realm to another! How magnificent was that!? How fascinating! Ed was in awe! 

 

Penguin nodded. “Yes. It was…  _ unwise  _ of me to keep it open. No one knows about it now but it’s still a great risk. It’s a wishing well, after all, it could easily be discovered. If I were any wiser I would’ve closed it like I did with the rest of them and have it over with.” 

 

“Why didn’t you?” 

 

The King was silent for a moment, licking at his lower lip. “I couldn’t,” he confessed in a soft voice. “This was the one portal I could not close.” 

 

Ed frowned. “Is it that powerful? You need more magic in order to close it? Is this why you brought me here? To help you close the last portal?” 

 

The King chuckled fondly and shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, Edward, but that’s not why I brought you here.” 

 

“But you said you couldn’t close the portal on your own, so--” 

 

“I couldn’t close it for sentimental reasons,” the King elaborated. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“You remember I once told you that there were only four people I fully trusted in my life?” 

 

Edward nodded. “Indeed I do. One of those four betrayed you. The other two were your parents.” 

 

“And the last one is the person who’s in this well.” 

 

Ed was stunned for a moment. “There’s a person inside the wishing well!?” 

 

“No! Not like that! He’s  _ on the other side  _ of the wishing well. In another realm.” 

 

“Ah, of course. That makes more sense,” Ed snorted. “I still have to get used to how portals work. Is he a goblin too?” 

 

Penguin shook his head. “No, he’s human. That’s why I had to keep him safe…” he sighed, eyes cast down to the depth of the well. Then out of the blue he uttered,“I miss him.” His voice was so soft, the three simple words filled with so much feeling, Ed’s heart skipped a beat. “I miss him every single day. But I had no choice. I had to send him to another realm for his own protection.” 

 

Edward remained silent and still. He had no idea what to say. He wasn’t entirely sure he understood his own feelings while listening to this confession. It was confusing him.  

 

“We still write to one another,” the King continued. “The wishing well is our way to communicate. I throw a letter inside and it reaches him. Then he sends me a reply.” His face softened a little, a small smile appeared on his lips, as if he couldn’t help it. “Those letters brighten my days. They bring me so much joy.”  

 

Edward clenched his jaw. He had no idea Penguin had other friends. And he hated to admit it but he felt a pang of jealousy at that thought. It was illogical and stupid. Penguin  _ was  _ allowed to have other friends. Yet Ed felt strangely possessive about him all the sudden. Seeing the look on Penguin’s face, such strong affection for someone  _ who wasn’t Edward _ , it was strangely annoying. The frequent correspondence, their closeness despite distance and time, that whole interdimensional friendship… How could Ed not be jealous? Penguin was so protective of that “friend”, so caring and-- Edward froze. A different thought crossed his mind, a new light thrown on the matter, and it confused him even more. What if this wasn’t just a friendship? What if Penguin was  _ in love _ ? The look on his face suggested a very strong feeling. There was definitely love and trust there. Could that love and trust go deeper than what Penguin let on? Could the man on the other side of the wishing well be Penguin’s  _ beloved _ ? The mere idea of it was so weird! Edward could not even  _ imagine  _ the King in love. Yet… Letters in a wishing well, really! Penguin was secretly quite the romantic! It was sweet, yet for some reason the image of the King and his lover exchanging love letters made Edward even more frustrated.  

 

“He’s late with his last reply,” Penguin’s voice snapped Ed out of his grim thoughts. “He’s never late with a letter. I fear something’s happened. I had to do something so I came to you.” 

 

Edward furrowed his brows. He was not ready to deal with this, he really wasn’t. At least not until he understood his own strange feelings. “I’m sure he’s just being detained,” he forced himself to say. 

 

The King shook his head. “He never is. Something’s happened, I just know it, and I worry about him so much!” 

 

Ed exhaled, trying not to seem too irritated. “When was his letter supposed to arrive?” 

 

“Last night,” the King replied quickly. “He was supposed to write to me last night but he hasn’t. There’s no news from him and I just couldn’t wait any longer.” 

 

Ed blinked. “You’re worried because you haven’t heard from him  _ one night _ ? That’s not even 24 hours!” 

 

“Our letters  _ always  _ come in time. That’s crucial!” 

 

Edward tried to summon all the patience he was capable of. How could he break this gently to the King? “Have you thought that… perhaps he’s moved on from your friendship? Maybe he just didn’t want to write anymore.” 

 

“Impossible!” The King said firmly, nearly outraged at the mere idea. “We’re very close! He wouldn’t just abandon me without a word! Something’s happened to him to stop him from replying, there’s no other explanation!” 

 

And there was the King’s temper again. Edward did not expect such a passionate defense of the “wishing well”-friend. He realized he had made a blunder, crossed an invisible line. Penguin’s friend was apparently very important to the King and suspecting him in anything untoward was a mistake.  

 

“I know what you’re thinking, Edward, but I promise, you’re wrong,” Penguin said, softer. His voice broke and Edward realized with horror that the King was sobbing.

 

Ed stared at him dumbfounded. He never meant to upset the man, let alone make him cry! Edward felt yet another strange pang of jealousy. He didn’t know much about this other human that had Penguin’s trust but he was already annoyed by him. Who was that human that Penguin cried over!? However, his anger subsided when he witnessed the King’s sadness. He wanted to ease the King’s suffering, but he was no good at handling emotions, he had no idea what to say to make things right. Words seemed futile. It was by instinct that Ed’s hand rested on Penguin’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Perhaps the touch would work as a reminder that Penguin didn’t have to face this alone. 

 

Without putting much thought the King turned around buried his head in Edward’s chest. Edward nearly gasped with surprise but instead he simply wrapped his arms around Penguin and held him in his embrace for as long as the King needed. It was working, apparently, because Penguin slowly relaxed, his sobs subsiding, his heartbeat slowing down. He remained in Ed’s arms for a few more moments, then looked up, face still wet from his tears. 

 

“Please, help me find him?” he pleaded. 

 

Edward furrowed his brows. “Is he in my realm? With the humans?” 

 

Penguin shook his head. “He’s in a realm known as Wonderland.” 

 

Ed’s eyes went wide. “Wonderland!?  _ The  _ Wonderland?” 

 

“You know it?” The King asked, a little surprised. 

 

“I do! From books.  _ Alice in Wonderland? _ ” 

 

The King shrugged. “I don’t know an Alice there. I just know one person. His name is Jervis Tetch and my friend should be with him.” 

 

_ Perhaps your friend doesn’t love you anymore! Perhaps he’s fallen for this Jervis Tetch, whoever he is!  _ Edward wanted to scream but he restrained himself from it. He didn’t want to cause the King further pain. Instead he cleared his throat and tried to sound as calm as possible. “So I should go look for your friend or a Jervis Tetch. Got it.” 

 

The King’s eyes went a little wide. It made him look very innocent, which was strange because Edward knew the King was anything  _ but  _ innocent. Or vulnerable. Yet, there he was. A contradiction. A  _ puzzle _ . “You’d really do this for me?” he asked. 

 

“Yes, of course,” Edward nodded. “If that’s what you need me to do. We’re friends, aren’t we, Penguin?” 

 

Penguin smiled, such warmth radiating from his gaze as he looked at Edward. “Yes. Yes, we are.” He cleared his throat. “I would’ve gone myself but my enemies would take this as an open invitation to invade my Castle and take over.” 

 

“I understand. You can’t leave Gotham. But I can.” 

 

“I don’t trust anyone else with this,” Penguin confessed.  

 

“Not even Zsasz?” Edward asked, rather surprised. He assumed Zsasz was the King’s right hand man. 

 

“Zsasz is not… he’s a great help to me but he’s more like my secret police than a trusted advisor.” 

 

Oh! So  _ who was _ the trusted advisor then? Was it… Could it be Edward now? Was that what the King was trying to hint at? 

 

“You need to understand this, Edward,  _ no one  _ knows about him. No one but me and now you,” the King said. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to harm my friend.” 

 

Edward wasn’t so sure about that. His weird jealousy was making his blood boil, taking control over him in a very unfamiliar way. It was a new feeling, he wasn’t sure how he would react to meeting that “friend”, neither was he too thrilled at the prospect, but the King expected this of him, he  _ trusted  _ him. Penguin’s pleading eyes were enough to placate Ed, so of course, he’d do it. He’d do nearly anything for Penguin. 

 

“Of course,” he reassured out loud, repeating what was already clear in his mind. 

 

“You must understand that no one knows about my friend,” the King said carefully. “I’d appreciate it if you keep it between us.”  

 

A shaky breath escaped Edward’s lips. Once again he felt immense pleasure upon being in the King’s confidence. Once again they shared a secret, something that no one else was privy to, something Penguin only trusted him with. 

 

“I won’t tell anyone, Penguin, I promise,” Ed said. 

 

“Thank you. And thank you for doing this. I honestly thought you’d feel too uneasy to use another portal so soon after your own arrival in Gotham.” 

 

“I am,” Ed confirmed. “The mere thought terrifies me but… I promised I’d help you. If that’s the way, so be it. I’ll go to this Wonderland, look for your friend, and bring him here to you.” 

 

The King swallowed, then paced around the well nervously. “This might be very dangerous. I don’t know what’s waiting for you in Wonderland. If something happened to my friend, then that means Wonderland is no longer safe…”   

 

“I am aware. I can handle it. Your friend will be safe, you have my word.” 

 

Penguin looked at him sadly. “It’s not just my friend I’m worried about,” he confessed. “Edward… there’s something you need to know. Something very important…” 

 

“Yes, Penguin?” 

 

The King just stood before him, eyes wide and open, mouth ajar, his lower lip trembling slightly. Once again this eloquent man seemed at a loss for words in front of Edward. It was peculiar and rather flattering that Ed would have this effect on him. 

 

“Yes, Penguin?” he encouraged again. 

 

“You mean a lot to me, Edward,” the King finally said. His hands were shaking so he clasped them together to steady them. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

 

The words and the honest way in which they were uttered, warmed Edward’s heart. He smiled, taking the King’s shaky hands in his. “I know. I feel the same. But I promise, you won’t lose me. I won’t allow it. We’re friends, Penguin. Partners. We got this.” 

 

The King melted into a smile, tears still glistening in his blue-green eyes. Such beautiful eyes, Ed suddenly realized but quickly dismissed the thought. This wasn’t the time to admire aesthetically pleasing goblin eyes. 

 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright to go there?” Penguin asked worriedly. 

 

Edward nodded, suddenly feeling quite confident in himself and his own abilities. “Yes. I’m ready.” 

 

Penguin inhaled deeply and pulled Ed into a tight hug. “In that case… Good luck!” 

 

“Wait. How will I find your friend? What does he look like? What’s his name? I need more details.” 

 

The King pulled away to look him in the eyes. “Names have power. I can’t say his name out loud now. But everything you need to know about him is in here,” He took out a folded piece of paper from his inside pocket and carefully placed it in Edward’s hands, holding them in his for a few moments. “Be careful. Please.” 

 

Edward nodded again. 

 

“You need to jump in the well. It will take you to Wonderland. Is that clear?” 

 

Ed gave another nod. 

 

Penguin inhaled deeply and leaned over the well. “ _ Wish me well, wishing well; take me to your other realm _ ,” he chanted. Then he glanced at Edward again. “Be careful,” he mouthed one more time. 

 

Edward wanted to laugh at how nervous and worried Penguin was but he didn’t. Instead he threw his long legs over the wishing well and jumped inside. 


	20. Chapter XX: Into the Wishing Well

He was falling into a deep black hole. Literally. Logically there had to be water at the bottom of this pit but not in this case. In this case he had  _ no idea  _ what was at the bottom. He felt like Alice in the rabbit hole, ironically as that may sound under the circumstances. Wanderland. He was going to  _ Wonderland _ . Was that even a real place? Apparently yes. Although Edward was uncertain if it would be the same Wonderland he had read about in Lewis Carroll’s book. That would’ve been utterly unbelievable. Then again, everything that happened to Edward over the last couple of months was unbelievable. Perhaps Wonderland was real and Lewis Carroll visited it and wrote about what he saw, for all Ed knew. Or quite possibly the two places only shared a name and that was about the only thing they had in common. He didn’t have time to dwell on this matter for too long, however, he was soon about to find out for himself. 

 

He was falling, and falling, and falling, and after a while it no longer felt like falling to him, it felt more like  _ jumping _ . It was the most peculiar thing. It started off with the distinct feeling of falling down but then suddenly it was more like he were rocketting up. Gravity no longer made sense in this magic well, nor did anything Edward knew to be true. As if this well existed outside the laws of science, outside of time and space. 

 

Ed saw light in the end of the well, clear blue skies welcoming him, and he braced himself for when he was inevitably going to pop out of the other side like a cork.  His speed escalated and so did his heartbeat. The things he’d do for Penguin! The light was getting closer and closer and finally…  _ POP _ . 

 

The meadow softened his fall. He found himself face first in the fresh green grass. He was not hurt, yet for a long moment he could do nothing else but roll on his back and pant, trying to get his breath back. He was dizzy, his vision was blurry, and all he wanted to do was just lie there on the grass, watch the sky with the small fluffy clouds floating peacefully in it. A few birds flew by, singing their cheerful songs. Everything was quiet idyllic. Was this really Wonderland? 

 

When his heartbeat finally returned to a more normal pace, and his breaths evened, Edward slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, taking in his surroundings. The meadow, the wishing well, the bright sky, it all looked like the place Penguin took him to in Gotham. It was probably how the portal worked. Ed assumed the well-portal was a fixed point in space, thus it remained unchanged in any realm. Edward was curious to further examine this phenomenon, however, that had to wait. He had a mission, after all. The sooner he found Penguin’s friend, the sooner the King would stop worrying about it and they could all go back to their normal lives. Motivated by that prospect, Edward took out the note Penguin gave him and carefully read it. 

 

_ Martin (pronounced  _ _ Mar-teen _ _ ). Human. Deep brown eyes. Curly brown hair. White skin. Doesn’t talk. Adorable and so very cute. Please, be safe!  _

 

Edward read the note twice. He wanted to scream. Judging by the description  _ Mar-teen  _ was  _ utterly horrid  _ ! Why would Penguin care for this man so much? And why would he describe him as “adorable and so very cute” was beyond Ed. He hated Martin’s guts already, now more than ever, but for the King’s sake he had to find him and save him. A promise was a promise. 

 

~*~  

 

Jervis Tetch was a notably peculiar individual. Most of all he cherished “fun”. His greatest aspiration in life was, by his own words, “fun”. A tea party, a nice lark, a clever big hat covered in mementos. Those were the sort of things he valued. At least that was what he let others see on the surface of the vast ocean that was his energetic personality. The depths of his soul were, indeed, impressive. Truth be told, Jervis had many other aspirations than what he let on, but those he kept mostly to himself. They were, after all, first and foremost, private. The world could see the laughing jolly man with the big hat and the funny watch and assume that was about all there was to know about Jervis Tetch. The world would be wrong. But Jervis wasn’t going to clear the misconceptions about him. He liked to remain a mystery of sorts. And the fact that no one expected him to be mysterious only made him a better mystery. A mystery no one as much as tried to solve was a well protected secret, and the best hiding places were in plain sight. You see, secrets were another thing Jervis was secretly good at. In short, Mr. Tetch was a puzzle without being a puzzle, a mysterious non-mystery, and also the proverbial still water that ran deep (but without technically staying still because, let’s face it, staying still was hard). All clear? Are you with us so far? Good.  

 

When a tall man with long legs, a bowler hat and excessively green suit showed up at his door, Jervis smiled. He smiled because a) Jervis had a nice smile so why deprive the world of it? and b) bowler hats were fun (not as fun as top hats though, mind you, but fun nevertheless). 

 

“A visitor! How grand! May I offer you a hand?” Jervis greeted cheerfully. 

 

The man looked tired, exhausted even. He also seemed slightly annoyed but clearly determined to ignore that feeling instead of exploring it. 

 

“Are you Jervis Tetch?” he asked. 

 

Jervis was a good judge of character. He could tell this man had no malicious intent, so he let his smile grow wider as he replied, “I have many names, well, actually, two. Which one you choose to use is all up to you.” 

 

The man in green visibly suppressed a groan. “This isn’t funny. I’m here on a very serious mission. I need your help.” 

 

“Oh! Help you’ll get if help you seek. Come on in, relax, go take a leak.” 

 

Before the man in green could say another word, Jervis pulled him into his house and forced him to feel at home. 

 

~*~ 

 

Once they were settled at the coffee table with two ridiculously large cups of tea in their hands, and a small plate with biscuits on the table, Jervis said, “So tell me, sweetheart, what brings you to these parts?” 

 

“I’m looking for a friend. I believe you know him. His name is Martin,” said the man in green. 

 

Jervis felt his eye twitch slightly but his fingers were perfectly steady around the cup. “Martin? What a charming name! But I have to wonder what’s your game? Why do you ask this, friend? By whom were you sent?” 

 

“The rhymes just won’t go away, will they?” The man in green said with a small sigh. 

 

“Why want them to go away? When they’re so jolly and gay!” Jervis beamed. Rhymes were one of his many passions (and by “passion” understand “obsession”). 

 

“Anyway. My name is Edward. Nygma. I was sent here by King Penguin from Gotham. I understand you know Martin.” The man in green probably sensed Jervis was losing interest quickly because his next words were  _ actually rhyming _ . “I am a friend, I have no evil intend.” Jervis clapped his hands at Edward’s attempt at rhyming. Nygma continued, “Please tell me if you know where he is? I need to see him and put the King’s mind at ease.” 

 

“Oh, glorious! Now we both speak in rhymes! People haven’t done this with me since the good old times!” Jervis’ wide grin became even wider. “But before we proceed, to test you I need.” That said Jervis pulled out his pocket watch and dangled it in front of Edward’s face. 

 

“What are you--?” Before Nygma could finish his sentence, he was already in a trance. 

 

Jervis smiled pleased with himself. A simple hypnosis was a no big deal, a fun way to pass the time. However, it was also a really useful way to get what you want or to extract information. In this case, Jervis needed to hypnotise Edward so that he could check if the man was telling the truth, if he was trustworthy. One couldn’t be too careful these days, and being careful was imperative when strangers were asking questions. Especially if these questions concerned Martin or the Penguin King. 

 

“Now,” Jervis leaned in closer to look carefully into Edward’s zoned out face, “tell me why you’re here, dear.” 

 

“Penguin was worried about Martin. I wanted to impress him by finding his friend and be the hero,” Edward replied in a monotone voice. 

 

Oh. So he  _ was  _ telling the truth. 

 

“Do you really come from Gotham?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“How? How did you do that?” 

 

“Through a secret portal. The last unsealed one.” 

 

Huh! No one in Wonderland knew anything about an unsealed portal! 

 

“Why did Penguin send  _ you  _ and not someone else?” Jervis continued. “And why did you agree to do it? Going through portals can be dangerous in our times. Especially when they’re basically illegal.” 

 

“Penguin trusts me. And I’d do anything for him.” 

 

“But why?” 

 

“Because I love him,” Edward replied without hesitation. 

 

“Well, that makes no sense at all,” Jervis sighed, putting the watch down. He glanced back at hypnotized Ed. “What do you intend to do with Martin when you find him?” 

 

“Bring him back to Penguin. He needs to personally make sure that Martin is alive and well.” 

 

That was about all Jervis needed to know at the moment. He snapped his fingers and Edward came out of his trance. 

 

“What-- how are you going to test me?” Edward asked, confused, remembering the last thing he heard Tetch say before everything went black for a moment. 

 

Jervis chuckled. It was always so amusing when they didn’t remember anything they said or did under hypnosis! “No test, just rest,” Mr. Tetch said. “I believe you, so I’ll help you find Martin. Fear not, no danger befalls on him. But tell me something first, okay? How did you find me anyway?”  

 

“Well, apparently you’re somewhat famous around here because I just asked an albino does he know where Jervis Tetch lives and he gave me directions,” Edward said and added. “It was surprisingly easy until I had to actually follow them… Wonderland is a very strange place with directions. I nearly died a few times!”   

 

“That is part of the charm. Up can be down and down can be up. Left is right and right is never left.” 

 

“Okay… This is Wonderland so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve heard this was a crazy place,” Edward sighed. “Just on my way here I stumbled upon a poster that read _ ‘If you want your sanity cured, Wonderland is the thing for you!’ _ ” 

 

Jervis knew that poster. It was so inspirational. The words were ornamented with pretty flowers and smiling little suns. What could be more jolly than that? 

 

“I don’t mean to be rude but can we please find Martin now? I’m sort of in a hurry,” Edward reminded. 

 

“Sure.” Jervis got up from his chair and hurried off to one of the closed doors, knocking three times. “Oh, Martin? Mr. P. sent a friend to check up on you. I tested him, he’s good. You can come out now.” 

 

Edward’s jaw dropped. Martin was  _ here  _ the whole time!? Ed had so many questions on behalf of the King. His first thought was that Martin clearly wanted to ditch the King. Not answering Penguin’s letters like that? What was that guy trying to do? It was really sad that Penguin cared so deeply about an asshole who didn’t even bother to write back! It was unfair and Edward was furious! Martin was going to pay for this! Martin did not deserve the King’s affection or his friendship! Martin was-- Martin was… Martin was a kid!? 

 

~*~ 

 

At first Edward could not believe his eyes. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Or a spell of some sort. Maybe a side effect of being exposed to portal magic for so long? Yet it did not seem like there was something supernatural at play here. Martin really was an  _ actual child _ . No more than 10 years old. To think Edward was so jealous of a child! The funniest part of all was that… well, Martin really did look kind of adorable.  

 

“You’re Martin?” Edward asked, nearly stuttering as he gaped at the boy. He still had to be sure. 

 

The kid nodded. Right. He didn’t talk. It was in the note. Was he mute? 

 

“I’m Edward Nygma. King Penguin sends me,” Edward said, placing his palm over his chest as he introduced himself. “I’m surprised to see you here. We thought you were in danger.” 

 

Martin held up a strange-looking wand-like pen that was dangling on a silver chain around his neck, and lifted it in the air. At first Edward thought the kid was about to cast a spell with it and braced himself for whatever was going to happen, but then the young boy only waved the thing around. It took Ed a moment to realize that Martin was writing out words with it. Was that how he communicated? How were people supposed to read what-- To Edward’s great surprise the words actually appeared into thin air, like a glowing purple smoke. 

 

_ “Hello, Edward. We finally meet. I am Martin. How is Penguin?” _

 

The glowing letters disappeared the moment Edward read them. That took Magic Board to a whole different level! Ed was fascinated! He blinked, snapping out of his daze. 

 

“He’s very worried about you. And I think you know why,” Ed said carefully. Jervis Tetch was still in the room and Edward didn’t know how much that man knew of Martin’s correspondence with the King of Gotham. 

 

_ “I thought he would be.”  _ Martin wrote in the air.  _ “I hate to worry him but it was important to do this. He’d understand when I get to him. I expect that's what you plan to do, right? Take me back to Gotham to him?”  _

 

Edward nodded. “I need to show him you’re well. He deserves this much after the fright you gave him.” Even though Martin was a young boy Edward couldn't keep the disapproval from his voice. Child or not, Martin scared Penguin. Thinking back, Edward found Penguin’s reaction so much more understandable now. Being frightened for a child made sense. Even a one day delay could be a real horror to a parent. Edward understood that. He understood Penguin’s fears. 

 

_ “Thank you for coming for me, Edward.”  _ Martin wrote, ignoring Edward’s accusation. 

 

Edward swallowed. “I did it for him. Like I said, he is very worried.” 

 

_ “We cannot leave now. I need to prepare a few things before that. Besides, I cannot risk visiting the portal in broad daylight.”  _

 

“Alright. So we wait till it’s dark,” Edward agreed. 

 

_ “After midnight. I’ll let you know when,”  _ Martin wrote, and when the words disappeared he continued, _ “You may rest now. I can tell you’re exhausted. Portal traveling is rough on the body. Sleep. Eat. I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”  _

 

“Alright…” Edward said with a frown. This was so weird. Martin was rather good at giving commands. Something about his manner reminded Edward of Penguin. Could Martin be… related to the King somehow? But how? He couldn’t be Penguin’s son, could he? Could a goblin have a human son? Depending on who the mother was… Who was the mother? Genetically speaking she had to be a human too and perhaps-- 

 

_ “Give your mind some rest now, Edward Nygma,”  _ Martin’s glowing air letters interrupted Ed’s thoughts.  _ “All will be explained to you once we’re back in Gotham.” _

 

Edward nodded. 

 

“This way. You can have my bed,” Jervis Tetch said with an amiable smile and showed Ed the way. 

 

~*~  

 

Riddler opened his eyes. It took him a moment to get used to the novelty. It wasn’t every day he hijacked someone’s body! So this was what it felt like to have an actual physical form. Weird. But as a cold-hearted logician and a genius mastermind he should get used to this in no time. It was about time he took over from Edward. At least for a little while. He didn’t have much time so he quickly slid out of the bed, put Edward’s jacket on, and sneaked out of the room. That Martin kid wasn’t anywhere nearby -- probably taking care of whatever preparations he claimed he had to do earlier -- so Riddler went straight for the person he actually wanted to talk to. 

 

“Mr. Tetch,” he smiled with a small wave of his hand. Jervis was outside on his porch, tinkering with a hat. He looked rather child-like himself like that. Edward approached him. “Mind if I join you?” 

 

Mr. Tetch looked up and smiled back. “You’re always welcome, friend. Till the very end.” 

 

Riddler suppressed an eye roll. The rhymes were getting a little annoying, but then again, Riddler wasn’t one to talk. He had similar fondness only for riddles and so did Ed. They were not in a position to judge Jervis for his rhyming habit. 

 

“Troubles sleeping?” Jervis asked, returning his attention to the hat in his hands. 

 

“I just wanted the air,” Riddler said, settling comfortably by the other man’s side. “So tell me, you can hypnotize anyone with that watch of yours or just me?” he asked casually. 

 

Tetch nearly dropped the hat. His eyes went wide as he stared at Riddler. “Edward Nygma… how did you know?”

 

“Oh, I know a lot of things about you,  _ Mad Hatter _ ,” Riddler replied. Unlike Ed, he had done his research. “I know you can hypnotize any race. And I can tell you must’ve hypnotized me earlier. Why else would you suddenly trust me enough to let me see Martin?” 

 

“Well… that is true. I needed a clue!” Jervis explained energetically. 

 

“A clue that I am a friend. I understand. I hold no ill feelings,” Riddler reassured. Then smiled again. “So tell me, Hatter, can you really hypnotize anyone? No matter how powerful they are?” 

 

“Definitely so! Whether friend or foe,” Hatter replied cheerfully. He was quickly calming down after the initial shock. In fact, he was rather impressed with Edward’s cleverness. No one had ever realized they’ve been hypnotized by Jervis before. Edward was the first. 

 

“Interesting,” Riddler smirked. “You know, your skills would be most valuable in Gotham.” 

 

“I suppose.” Jervis shrugged. 

 

“I don’t know how you’re doing here, in Wonderland, these days, but in Gotham you could have it all. Gotham is good with opportunities like that. All you need to do is grab them!” 

 

“But Gotham is closed. All portals sealed.” 

 

Riddler leaned in. “All but  _ one _ .” He lifted one finger to demonstrate. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. 

 

Hatter swallowed. “Well, yes. The secret one. The one Martin knows about. But I couldn’t use it, so that’s out.”  

 

“Couldn’t you?” Riddler asked, temptation leaking through his voice. “Couldn’t you use it too, Jervis?” 

 

“Well…” Hatter visibly hesitated. “Is this what King Penguin wants? For me to return to Gotham with you?” 

 

Riddler inhaled deeply. He had to thread carefully. “There’s this woman, Barbara Kean. Should you ever find yourself in Gotham, she can help you. You just go to her, tell her I sent you, and she’ll explain the rest.” 

 

“Barbara Kean? Isn’t that--?” 

 

“She’s trusted,” Riddler grinned widely at the other man. “Trust me.”

 

“I don’t really know you, however. Why put blind trust in you, now or ever?”  

 

“You hypnotized me earlier. You got from me what you needed to know, didn’t you?” 

 

Hatter nodded. “True that. Yet there’s one thing I still don’t get.” 

 

Riddler arched an eyebrow. “Just one?” He asked. His esteem for Hatter’s intellect wasn’t too high but he quickly amended, “I mean, do share, please.” 

 

“When I asked you about the King while you were hypnotized, you said you loved him, and I was surprised.” 

 

Riddler’s face fell. “... I said that?” he uttered. 

 

“Oh, yes, indeed you did! So why betray him like that if you love him so bad?” 

 

Stupid,  _ stupid  _ Ed! He had to go be emotional, loving,  _ needy  _ ! Idiot! Didn’t he see that if he used Penguin and Barbara’s feud he could take over all of Gotham and rule himself? Instead used his magic to read books and make flowers grow. Ridiculous! Where was the man’s ambition!? 

 

“Right. Apparently I did say that.”

 

“People usually don’t have memories of what they say when hypnotized. But they don’t lie, I’ve realized,” Hatter explained. 

 

Riddler, of course, already knew that. But he had bigger problems to worry about that Ed Nygma’s audacity to fall in love with the King! “Despite my feelings, whatever they are, I put Gotham first,” he said out loud. “I can see you and Barbara together would be good for Gotham.” 

 

Hatter’s eye twitched. “Really?” 

 

“Oh, for sure!” Riddler said confidently. “Don’t you want to have some fun, Jervis? You must be dreadfully bored in this Wonderwasteland.” 

 

Hatter sighed. “I rather am…” 

 

“There’s your solution then. You have your options. The choice is all yours,” Riddler tapped the man’s knee in a friendly fashion. “If you decide to return to Gotham, say the word and I’ll give you the location to the portal.” 

 

“But Martin is my friend…” 

 

“Yet he’s never spoken of that secret portal to you before my arrival, has he? He doesn’t seem to trust you with his secrets until it’s absolutely impossible to hide them anymore.” 

 

Hatter saddened a little. “Yeah… he never even mentioned the portal…” 

 

“It seems to me your friendship is a little one-sided.” He gave Jervis’ knee another squeeze to show support. “You’re more than just a convenient babysitter, Jervis Tetch. You’re the Mad Hatter. And I think it’s time you take control of your own life.” He removed his hand from Jervis’ knee and got back up on his feet. “Now I should go rest some more. Martin would soon be here to take me to the portal.” 

 

Jervis remained silent, only giving Riddler a nod. 

 

Riddler retreated back to the bedroom. He was very pleased with himself. His conversation with Tetch went really well. He had planted the seed of doubt into Jervis’ mind, urging him to turn to Barbara. The wheels were set in motion and no one would be able to stop them. And the best bit was that Edward wouldn’t even remember his little talk with Tetch when he woke up. Just like he wouldn't remember if after they return to Gotham Riddler wrote Barbara a letter, explaining to her his new ideas for the Mad Hatter. 


End file.
